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anythingdrabbleTitle: Remembrance of Things Past
Fandom: Who Made Me a Princess
Characters/Pairings: Claude/Felix
Word Count: 500
Rating: Explicit, warning for underage sex
Notes/Summary: Claude was not a blushing virgin.
Claude wasn't a blushing virgin. He knew the steps; the whispered words of servants and teachers alike and the adamant avoidance to explain a 'certain something' to him led him to seek out books to explain it.
They explained well enough. If the detailed, excruciating throes of passion seemed a little exaggerated, Claude would let it slide. After all, the only purpose sex served was creating an heir. With Anastasius as the crown prince, the second brother was positive he wouldn't procreate soon. But, then, Claude thought he'd lose it marriage, maybe an aristocrat's or duke's daughter, perhaps a foreign princess.
But he and Felix had never been perfect liege and knight, master and servant, friend and comrade; there'd always been something—something wrong, different, under that fog of protection—in their relationship. The day Claude addressed it was the day of his fourteenth birthday, celebrating under a lonely night's sky.
For better or worse, you always remember your first time.
There was nothing that the fourteen-year-old Claude didn't retain. The night was muggy, slick, thick hotness rolling his skin in waves hotter than hell's summer with little reprieve. The knight was a blushing virgin.
Felix found him among bramble. His skin was agitated red with jagged cuts and scratches under the trappings of his armor as the knight lifted the heavy metal of his breastplate off his chest, pulled it back, and let it clatter to the ground. He threw off his thin cotton shirt, still drenched in sweat from the training session earlier.
With a soft moan, Felix let the night brush against his skin, and he didn't realize he stood half-naked before his master until a shirt flew into his face back in his face. Then, his large grey eyes lit up, and he could smell Claude's clean scent.
"Uh—"
Claude eyed his rugged form. His ribs were stark white with bruises and puff black and blue knotted welts over them, not just from this particular skirmish, but the other times when Felix both protected him and pushed his limits.
"Prince Claude," Felix bowed, "I didn't— My apologies, young prince."
Claude smirked at him, amused.
Sex wasn't supposed to be unique, but a firm hand gripped the front of his tunic, scrambling to dust him off, then it became special.
Taking him by surprise with an intense, open-mouthed kiss, Claude yanked Felix down, huffing before recoiling back immediately.
Where Claude stopped, Felix reached out, knuckles tentatively grazing where Claude had gripped, then wrapping his fingers around his pale neck and pulling him forward, their bodies meeting at last. It took a few seconds to realize they were kissing and longer still to notice that Felix didn't want to stop.
Strong-bodied, coltish, taller than himself, well-trimmed, fumbling yet foolishly grinning as if the man was captivating and everything— Felix was no doubt his first.
"Prince," Felix huffed between kisses, hand slipping under his toga. "Can I?"
Claude only pulled himself down, throwing back his head.
He recalled his wordless response.
Fandom: Who Made Me a Princess
Characters/Pairings: Claude/Felix
Word Count: 500
Rating: Explicit, warning for underage sex
Notes/Summary: Claude was not a blushing virgin.
Claude wasn't a blushing virgin. He knew the steps; the whispered words of servants and teachers alike and the adamant avoidance to explain a 'certain something' to him led him to seek out books to explain it.
They explained well enough. If the detailed, excruciating throes of passion seemed a little exaggerated, Claude would let it slide. After all, the only purpose sex served was creating an heir. With Anastasius as the crown prince, the second brother was positive he wouldn't procreate soon. But, then, Claude thought he'd lose it marriage, maybe an aristocrat's or duke's daughter, perhaps a foreign princess.
But he and Felix had never been perfect liege and knight, master and servant, friend and comrade; there'd always been something—something wrong, different, under that fog of protection—in their relationship. The day Claude addressed it was the day of his fourteenth birthday, celebrating under a lonely night's sky.
For better or worse, you always remember your first time.
There was nothing that the fourteen-year-old Claude didn't retain. The night was muggy, slick, thick hotness rolling his skin in waves hotter than hell's summer with little reprieve. The knight was a blushing virgin.
Felix found him among bramble. His skin was agitated red with jagged cuts and scratches under the trappings of his armor as the knight lifted the heavy metal of his breastplate off his chest, pulled it back, and let it clatter to the ground. He threw off his thin cotton shirt, still drenched in sweat from the training session earlier.
With a soft moan, Felix let the night brush against his skin, and he didn't realize he stood half-naked before his master until a shirt flew into his face back in his face. Then, his large grey eyes lit up, and he could smell Claude's clean scent.
"Uh—"
Claude eyed his rugged form. His ribs were stark white with bruises and puff black and blue knotted welts over them, not just from this particular skirmish, but the other times when Felix both protected him and pushed his limits.
"Prince Claude," Felix bowed, "I didn't— My apologies, young prince."
Claude smirked at him, amused.
Sex wasn't supposed to be unique, but a firm hand gripped the front of his tunic, scrambling to dust him off, then it became special.
Taking him by surprise with an intense, open-mouthed kiss, Claude yanked Felix down, huffing before recoiling back immediately.
Where Claude stopped, Felix reached out, knuckles tentatively grazing where Claude had gripped, then wrapping his fingers around his pale neck and pulling him forward, their bodies meeting at last. It took a few seconds to realize they were kissing and longer still to notice that Felix didn't want to stop.
Strong-bodied, coltish, taller than himself, well-trimmed, fumbling yet foolishly grinning as if the man was captivating and everything— Felix was no doubt his first.
"Prince," Felix huffed between kisses, hand slipping under his toga. "Can I?"
Claude only pulled himself down, throwing back his head.
He recalled his wordless response.
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Date: 2021-08-31 12:35 am (UTC)