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How Dimitri found himself in this situation, he wasn’t sure. But his head was spinning, face stained with embarrassment, his sword hand white-knuckled against Claude’s arm, and Claude’s hand was--

Firmly cupped against his twitching erection.

Claude hummed, mouth twitching up at the corners in bemusement. His thumb idly stroked against the leaking tip through Dimitri’s trousers, sending a shiver through the blonde boy. 

“Goodness, Dimitri. So hard. You want me to take care of that?”

Dimitri gulped and twisted Claude’s sleeve between his knuckles. He hated the way his cock throbbed at Claude’s voice, deep and smooth in his ear, reverberating through his sensitive body. Every filthy fantasy Dimitri had ever had flashed through his mind in an erotic haze. Every maiden who’d walked by with a low cut top and a cheeky smile, every stable boy with a tight cotton shirt, soaked through from hard labor; the nights he would spend writhing in his sheets, moon high in the window, imagining the twisted ways they would take their pleasure from his body. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of Claude’s bejeweled fingers dragging hard lines through his zipper. 

The silver jewelry gently trailed down to the base of his cock. “Hm? Yes? I could make a mess of you right here. Get my mouth on you and make you nice and wet. None would be the wiser.”

Dimitri let out a wet gasp and jerked his head around, frantically looking for any involuntary voyeurs. The courtyard had all but emptied out after lunch, post-meal drowsiness and the promise of rain pushing everybody back to their dormitories. No one was looking right at them, hunched in their corner bench, line of sight blocked by shrubbery, but if someone walked past…

Claude brought his head closer, nuzzling at Dimitri’s hastening pulse. “Come on, blondie. Whaddaya say?”

Dimitri closed his eyes as another shiver ran down his spine, willpower crumbling by the second. He couldn’t think clearly with his cock throbbing in Claude’s grip. The brunet brushed his dry lips against Dimitri’s adam’s apple, smile evident against his skin. Just as he was about to quietly beg for Claude to relieve him, a cheery voice called out.

“Claude? Oh! Claude!” Hilda cried. The boys on the bench stiffened and the brunet ripped his hand away from Dimitri’s crotch as the girl bounded over. Dimitri crossed his hands over his lap in a way that he prayed seemed normal as Claude stood up and attempted to block Dimitri from her view.

“Teach wants to see you,” Hilda panted, mildly out of breath from her short jog. She flipped a pigtail over her shoulder and attempted to peek around Claude. “Hey, Dimitri.”

“Hi,” Dimitri croaked out as Claude cleared his throat.

“Thanks, Hilda, let’s go see her.” The brunet put his hands on the girls small shoulders and spun her around, marching towards the classroom. Dimitri sucked in a breath of relief, and looked up just in time to see Claude shoot a wink at him as the two rounded the corner. 

If Dimitri rushed back to his room to hastily fumble his hands over his cock, until he desperately spilled white over his knuckles, then that was no one’s business but his own.