Behind Closed Doors

“Your highness, your royal carriage awaits you outside to take you to the ball of Mister Devereux. I was informed that everyone will be awaiting your arrival; the show won’t go on unless you, sir, are there.” The voice of a young woman echoed throughout the spacious foyer. For a servant she was dressed quite well – a clean black bodice, a white ruffled bonnet, and a long cotton skirt that covered polished black shoes. She moved away from the door as King Laroche lethargically wandered near it. Her name – [insert name here].

“Ah, so I am the star once again, I presume? I dare not complain. After all, no one said the life of a King would be easy. In fact, I love my life and all of its pleasures,” the King’s sonorous voice boomed throughout the foyer; it was laced with pride and arrogance. “Keep a vigilant eye on my boys while I am gone, Marie. You and I both know that they tend to be a bit mischievous. Make sure they stay indoors. With France in such a chaotic state they can’t afford to step foot outside without any kind of supervision.”

Marie wrapped slender, callused fingers around the golden handle of the heavy front door and pulled it open with one try. Years upon years of doing toilsome chores had its benefits, such as the acquiring of physical strength. “Yes, my Lord. I shall watch your sons like a hawk who has endured many a famines would eye a field mouse. I will take very good care of them, I assure you. I have not once disappointed you in my duties and I don’t intend to start today.” She watched as her Lord nodded his head in approval. He trusted Marie and knew for certain that she would keep her promise. Her tired, lifeless eyes followed him until he was outside being helped into his carriage by several servicemen. Once she saw that he was safely inside of his carriage, she closed the door and locked it, a soft sigh of discontent emancipating past her chapped lips no later. “How can I possibly keep an eye on your boys when you have given me an abundance of other burdens for the day, my Lord? My work is never done.”

--

“Is that Father’s carriage I see trotting along the walkway outside, Lueius?”

A tiny whisper bounced off of crimson walls in a rather spacious room, Prince Alain’s bedroom, located on second story of the Laroche castle. The room was the bigger than the size of a peasant family’s house and everything in it fit for a god – tapestries depicting images of lions, white stallions, and crowns hung upon each wall, thick crimson curtains that cascaded to the floor dressed the tall prism shaped windows, expensive family portraits everywhere… the most glorious item in the room, however, was the gargantuan bed. Such a noble bed deserved noble décor. Opulent velvet sheets covered the bed, bits of genuine gold sprinkled upon it for a dazzling effect; a boy who appeared to have fallen straight from heaven, kneeled on the bed, completed the beautiful sight. His large cerulean eyes were currently steadied upon the nearest window. The boy was none other than Prince Alain himself.

“Lueius,” He whined, his thick French accent even more prominent than before. “Is that Father’s carriage outside?”

“Yes, Alain, yes. Father is going to Monsieur Devereux’s ball. Did he not tell you that before or were you off in your little fantasy world? Honestly, Alain, you need to pay more attention.” Barked Lueius in a tone that suggested he was annoyed. He was the elder of the two brothers, by precisely three years. He was also the aggressive one of the two, leaving Alain the passive, sensitive son.

“Don’t yell at me, Lueius.”

Lueius narrowed emerald eyes to his brother, rather fed up of his childish disposition. He studied him for a moment as his anger boiled before shaking his head, deciding to refrain from hitting him. Whenever Alain grabbed his goat by whatever means he tended to lash out at him, always gaining satisfaction due to the fact that the other was small and fragile, easy to toss around like a rag doll. Instead he slithered over to him and sat on the edge of the bed, a loving gaze locked upon him. “I apologize, mon cherie.” Strong olive hands reached out to Alain; one finger pressed against his full lower lip whilst the palm cradled his pale chin, the other hand became lost in his blonde head of curls that flowed freely down his backside.

“Lueius…” Alain loved it when Lueius was gentle with him. Gentle and tender. It wasn’t a side he had the privilege of seeing often. But when he did, shivers pulsated throughout his frail body. A quiet moan escaped the depths of his throat and he extended his tongue, licking the tip of his brother’s finger tentatively. Oh, how he wanted to please Lueius, who he considered the center of his universe. He wanted to take his manhood into his mouth and work wonders with his tongue, he wanted to caress and touch every inch of his lightly tanned skin, he wanted to lie on his back with legs parted and be dominated by the one he loved the most -- his own brother. So far he had only kissed the one he considered an Adonis. Pity he wanted to do so much more.

“Mm, you’re a tease. You know that, right?” Lueius cooed.

“Am not. I’ll do anything you want me to do in a heartbeat,” Alain retorted.

“So then you’re easy. But I like a challenge, little brother,” Lueius shook his head.

“Then I shall play hard to get,” Alain smiled triumphantly.

“Letting me know what your next move will be every other second really is no fun. How about being spontaneous for once, hm?” Lueius suggested, that all too familiar mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes.

“But I –” Alain’s words were cut short and he was practically tackled by his older brother. He fell back onto the soft, crushed velvet bed sheets and let out a surprised gasp as his brother pinned his arms down in a hostile manner.

“Spontaneous,” Lueius whispered in Alain’s ear as he lowered his lithe body, his own chest resting atop that of his brother’s. He slipped a hand beneath the other’s silky sleeping robe and sunk sharp nails into the soft, delicate flesh of his inner thigh. Slender, nimble fingers probed about for a while before wrapping around Alain’s hardened manhood, causing the blonde haired beauty to release a tiny whimper. “Clearly you’re just as turned on as I am right now. Little brother, you do know that this is completely and utterly wrong in a multitude of ways, yes?” Before Alain could respond, Luieus had already begun to lift up his robe. He practically snatched it off of the younger male’s effeminate frame; straddling his curved hips no sooner. “I know that this is wrong. I, however, don’t care. You know I’m not one to abide rules and you also know that when it comes to morals, I lack them.”

“Lueius, what if someone catches us? What if someone finds out?” Alain gazed up at his brother’s handsome face – handsome enough to make him have an orgasm right then and there – and jutted out his swollen lower lip. He trusted his brother immensely. Still, there were so many risks involved such an affair. Not only risks, but consequences; consequences worse than humiliation and mockery. Such possible effects were being thrown out of the royal castle or being put to death. After all, homosexuality was frowned upon a great deal. Incest and homosexuality would inevitably earn one a reputation as a walking, living, breathing sin.

“No one will catch us,” Lueis sighed in that all too familiar tone of voice that suggested that his feathers were ruffled. He slowly rose from his position atop Alain and sauntered toward the bedroom door. After poking his head into the corridor and glancing around for a bit, he stepped back into the bedroom and locked the door. Leaning against it, he narrowed his eyes to his brother. “You need to stop being such a worrywart. No one will find out. Trust me, Alain. You have to trust me.”