 |
|
Title: N/A
Fandom: Earl Cain/Godchild
Pairing: Cain/Leroy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1122 words
Notes: Technically AU.
Cain sighed at the noises coming from the bathroom, massaging his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what he would be doing now if his evening had gone as planned, and covered his faint smirk with a hand as he pictured pale thighs spread on silk sheets. But the image soured as he remembered the hurried excuses he'd been forced to make to the lady in question and her resulting explosion. She hadn't taken well to being apparently ditched for a half-concious boy on the side of the road.
There was a crash.
Steeling himself, Cain stepped into the bathroom. Soapy water covered the floor, immediately nudging at the toes of his shoes. Riff was equally soaked and wearing what was, for Riff, a very strained and put-upon expression. To someone who knew the man less well, he probably would have appeared merely perturbed. Cain sighed again, and directed his gaze to the cause of the trouble.
"No one's touching me unless they pay first!" Leroy snarled, pulling his wet and tattered clothes closer around his thin frame. He'd let his hair grow since Cain had last seen him, and the sandy curls reached just past his chin when damp. He was wearing skirts again, which Cain couldn't help but think was slightly dangerous, despite the doubtless niche demand for such things on the streets. He looked absolutely filthy, the hem of his skirt frayed and stained until it was unrecognizable from its original color, and as though he hadn't eaten more than scraps for weeks on end.
Riff's voice was miraculously steady. "As I mentioned before, Lord Cain is merely interested in your well-being. I am to bathe you, not--"
Making a scoffing noise, Leroy raised the bar of soap clutched in his hand as though it were a weapon.
"If you must, look at it this way," Cain said dryly, his voice making the boy jump. "I am hardly going to let you touch me enough to perform your job until you are clean."
Leroy stared at him for a long moment, his pale cheeks tinging with pink. "F-fine," he muttered, looking away. "But I'm not letting him touch me to do it."
"... Lord Cain?" Riff asked, sighing faintly.
"Fine." Cain ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his irritation from showing on his face. He understood what Leroy had been through, but honestly, the boy's attitude was troublesome. "You are excused, Riff. Please alert the maids to the fact that they will have something to clean up when we are finished."
"Yes, Lord Cain." With a bow and a slightly amused glance, Riff did as he was told.
That left Cain alone with his rather unappreciative house guest. "Please remove your clothes, Leroy," he said, his voice firm. He fumbled with his cufflinks, undoing them and sliding them into his pocket for safekeeping as he purposefully rolled up his sleeves. When he looked back up, Leroy was stripping, revealing a chest so thin his ribs showed through and bony hips that barely kept his skirts up. The boy looked at him nervously, as though searching for approval. "...good," Cain said, wondering in a detached way what had made the dark bruises and blood-crusted scrapes dotting his skin.
He didn't relish the concept of trying to get Leroy, with all his wounds and smudges of dirt, into what remained of the water in the bathtub. Instead, he took a bucket from the floor next to the tub, dipped it in, and splashed it over Leroy.
"Hey!" Leroy yelped, scandalized. "Couldn't you wait a second?!" For a moment, with his shocked and outraged expression, he looked like the loudmouthed street boy he'd been when Cain had first met him, and not the haunted prostitute he'd become. Struck by the image, Cain found himself moving close enough to run his thumb over Leroy's cheek, wiping a bit of dirt from it. Leroy's eye's widened slightly, a faint, strangely desperate sound escaping him.
Cain wasn't sure what exactly made him kiss Leroy, in the end. He honestly hadn't intended on touching the boy at all, despite his earlier words. God alone knew what Cassandra had done to Leroy, and what lasting effects it may have had. And even discounting that, the boy was Merryweather's friend. But before he could give it conscious thought, Cain pressed his lips to Leroy's, cupping his chin with one hand and kissing him deeply enough to muffle the hitching moan Leroy made. The awkward, chaste kiss he'd stolen from Cain in the garden of Cassandra's manor hadn't prepared Cain for how hot and hungry his mouth could be. He could feel Leroy's cock half-hard against his hip, and when he broke the kiss, the boy stared up at him with eyes dark and hungry, yet wary.
"Lord Cain," he breathed, his wet hands fisting in Cain's shirt. "If... if I'm here, at least let me... please. I don't take charity."
After a long moment, Cain nodded--what else could he do?--and Leroy slipped to his knees onto the puddle that was the bathroom floor. His fingers made short work of the fastenings of Cain's pants, and Cain belatedly regretted his lack of forethought as they slid to his ankles and promptly got soaked. But he didn't have long to think about that, as Leroy's hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking expertly, and then Leroy's tongue was there as well. It flicked almost teasingly over the head and then down, making Cain draw a sharp breath, before Leroy leaned forward and slid his mouth around it. The boy's mouth was hot and wet and disturbingly professional as he took Cain's cock deep. Cain gave a shuddering sigh, one of his hands dropping to Leroy's head to run his fingers through the damp mess of curls.
Leroy was making soft, aborted whimpers and moans around Cain's cock, and through the pleasurable haze assaulting his senses, Cain realized that he was clumsily fisting his own cock as he worked. Cain had a momentary flash of unease, doubting that Leroy's customers normally had such an effect on the boy, but a moment later it was forgotten as he bit back a moan of his own as he came. Leroy's shoulders shook at he reached his own climax soon afterwards, still shaking when Cain pulled him to his feet to kiss him, his tongue cleaning a bit of his own come from Leroy's lower lip.
Holding the wet and trembling boy close, Cain sighed inwardly and wondered what he'd gotten himself into.
Post A Comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend | Link
