Ferdinand shut the door behind them and shoved Hubert down onto their bed, letting him bounce lightly against the mattress. He untied his cravat and pulled slowly, letting his shirt fall open beneath it. He looked down commandingly at Hubert and smirked, pressing a booted foot between the man’s legs threateningly.
“Now, darling , you were saying?”
Hubert grinned, his lips twisting as he winced painfully. “That perhaps my demeanor would improve once I had a chance to get my hands beneath your trousers.”
Ferdinand tisked. “Such nasty manners… if a horse acted this ill toward me, I would surely put him in his place…” he began grinding the sole of his boot down onto Hubert’s crotch through his trousers, “with my heel… and perhaps my whip.”
“Ahh…” Hubert shuddered, leaning toward the painful touch of his shoe, rather than flinching away. His hips twitched, seeming to beg for more.
“What good is a punishment if the receiver enjoys it?” Ferdinand sighed, pouting his lip lightly. He shook his head, making a show of wondering what to do with his wayward husband.
“Ah— if your vengeance is of no satisfaction, then perhaps... my service might suffice?” Hubert smiled slyly, sitting up and reaching out his hands to hook a finger into Ferdinand’s belt.
“Perhaps…” Ferdinand agreed, but Hubert was undoing his belt before the word had left his lips. He yanked down the trousers, exposing Ferdinand’s round ass to the stingingly cold air and reaching around to gather handfuls of it to squeeze, letting the plushness spill between his fingers. Ferdinand gasped as his husband gripped him, then kissed the amber fuzz of hair along his stomach, pushing his waistcoat up out of the way.
“Lie back?” he coaxed, somehow both a question and an order at the same time. “I know your body better than anyone does, my love.”
“ Yes, ” Ferdinand whispered, half agreeing, and half pleading. He lowered himself onto the bed beside Hubert, who hastily propped up pillows behind him to give his eyes better access to everything he was about to do. Hubert took the Prime Minister’s hand, kissing it suggestively, and then paused a moment to remove his own clothes. Ferdinand obliged by slipping out of the rest of his as well. Hubert smirked approvingly at the sight, dipping over him for a kiss too brief for Ferdinand’s liking.
Ferdinand pressed upward, mouth searching, but Hubert stopped his lips with his fingers. “Wait,” he said in a low voice, then used his own mouth to slide kisses onto Ferdinand’s collarbone, dappling him with marks as he went.
“ Please, Hubert,” Ferdinand whined. “Do I not have the right to kiss my own husband?” His mouth practically ached for the taste of him, and he wanted desperately to feel him close.
“Ferdinand, will you never learn the art of anticipation? How sweetly it increases the satisfaction once the final strike is delivered?”
Ferdinand fretted visibly, fairly certain that what he wanted was as many kisses as possible, and that waiting would only mean less of them. Nevertheless, he let Hubert take the lead, enjoying the slender hands as they roamed over his skin, brushing the hair of his arms, his legs, his stomach—hair he had been proud to grow himself that could not always grow there before—and settled on the shallow rise of his chest. He briefly noticed that Hubert’s hands looked even more defined and angular than they had when they first met, years ago at Garreg Mach. When there were certain things about Hubert’s face, his voice, and the way he moved that felt instantly familiar to Ferdinand—things he recognized they shared that no one else did. In a matter of hours he had suspected, and within a few days he had been certain that Hubert was someone who had transformed himself, much like Ferdinand had, to appear the way he did.
He had been completely elated—finally, someone else who knew what it was like and would understand everything! Ferdinand had never met anyone else like himself before, not in person anyway, and he was certain they would share an instant bond. He was positive Hubert would be happy too—grateful, even, to find someone else who shared the secret that they both carried everywhere beneath their clothes.
But the day he approached Hubert, careful to pull him aside in privacy, the dark man had already decided Ferdinand’s worth in his eyes. Ferdinand tried to explain, excitedly yet tactfully, that he understood Hubert, that Ferdinand was the same as him. Hubert pulled a disgusted face, scoffed, and said venomously, “You and I are nothing alike,” before vanishing from the room, never speaking a word to him for weeks after.
He had been crushed, questioning himself for weeks before becoming as bitter and antagonistic in turn to match Hubert’s disdain. Ferdinand had no one else to confide in, much less share in this secret about himself. Why did the one person who could understand him hate him so much?
Time and years of battle and grudging friendship brought them closer out of necessity, and eventually out of trust in one another. By the time they fell in love it felt inescapable, and by the time Ferdinand proposed it had felt impossible not to. So much had happened in their lives together that they were bound by many cords of understanding, but beneath it all there was one strand woven between them that few others in the entire world shared in common.
Hubert raised his head and peered into Ferdinand’s eyes, pulling him out of his thoughts again. He was gazing so intently, so adoringly that Ferdinand felt a swell of emotion. Hubert’s lips finally found his and he got the kiss he was craving so fiercely. While their lips were still locked it was suddenly interrupted by the sensation of Hubert’s fingers dipping between Ferdinand’s legs and taking hold of his yet-untouched cock. Ferdinand cried out sharply against Hubert’s mouth and the dark-haired man hummed in utter satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Ferdinand gasped as Hubert sealed his mouth with more kisses, pressing a thumb down on the sensitive length and rubbing lightly, delighting as Ferdinand’s pelvis twitched helplessly in response.
Often by now one of them would have reached for one of the instruments Hubert had crafted to be easily strapped between their legs with a lovely leather harness, but some days things were too rushed to bother, or like this day, the mood simply wasn’t worth interrupting. Besides, both of them knew how to make do extremely well without them.
Hubert circled two fingers around Ferdinand’s cock, leaning in to kiss the gentle slope between Ferdinand’s pecs. His lips tickled his chest hair, but Hubert pressed worship onto his skin, right over the seams that had scarred so neatly in contrast to Hubert’s own blotched and stretched chest. Ferdinand had access to the best medicine his family could afford, but Hubert had not only had to make do, he vastly preferred his own hand over the idea of trusting someone else with his body. Years of magical experiments, born as equally out of desperation as out of cunning science, had marked itself progressively upon Hubert’s chest, and he had the map on his skin to prove it. Ferdinand thought them beautiful—each and every one as testament to Hubert’s cleverness and iron will, but also to the shared need each of them had to transform themselves, body and senses, into something more masculine in appearance. Into things which had been denied to them since birth.
Hubert kissed the even scars, shapes Ferdinand was careful to conceal around anyone else, but that Hubert made him feel admired for. It was dizzying, watching Hubert’s lips sink below the rounded muscle of his chest, a sight he had never quite gotten accustomed to after having his appearance altered to suit his needs. It would always be at least a little intoxicating, he thought. A special sight to behold, one that he would cherish more than other men who might take it for granted. Ferdinand winced to remember a time when he saw only offending, excess flesh there. Some days it would turn his stomach, other days he simply felt numb to the sight of it. But now that his chest was smooth and flat—correct—it felt even more exquisite to be adored, there in the spot that Hubert, of all men, knew what it meant to him.
Hubert was careful to circle his tongue around a nipple before closing his mouth around it. The sensation on his altered skin was barely a whisper, but the sight of it still sent Ferdinand’s head spinning as he watched. Hubert finally looked up, gaging the noble’s reaction carefully, and slipped two of his fingers inside Ferdinand, immediately hooking them angularly with a seductive smile.
Ferdinand cried out sharply, shifting his hips to gain a better stance for receiving him.
“So ready for me, Ferdinand. So hungry…”
Ferdinand slid a palm down Hubert’s chest, “If that is so, who are you to deny me?”
Hubert smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of it. However… you do have a few things to learn about patience.”
Ferdinand grunted and bit his lip as Hubert pulled back the hood of his cock and pressed upward, playing with him and digging his fingers deeper between his folds. Rudely, Hubert took his first two knuckles and pinched Ferdinand’s length in between them, twisting cheekily.
“AH—Hubert, please , that is hardly—”
“Elegant? Gentile? What makes you think I’m interested in being any of those things, my dear?”
Ferdinand sighed. “I was going to say civil, but you are wicked as ever.”
“You could use a little wickedness, I daresay. A little darkness to prove your light, perhaps?”
Ferdinand laughed shakily, steadying his hand on Hubert’s head. “Of course, that is why I married you.”
“Hmm, hardly. You married me because you couldn’t bear to be without me.”
“That is true,” Ferdinand sighed in earnest sincerity. “Hubert, you are everything, everything… ”
“Shhhhh,” Hubert hushed him, returning his focus to the rhythm of his fingers curling in and out of Ferdinand, sinking them deeper with each thrust. “You talk too much in bed. There are better uses for a tongue like yours… but for now, all I need to hear on your lips is the sound of your cries… once I have you at my mercy.”
Hubert dipped his fingers in once again, sliding them up and down boldly. He knew exactly the depth to tease at, and the shape to gauge his strokes. Once he had discovered something, Hubert was quick to memorize—a fact Ferdinand was grateful for.
He was relentless, however. Hubert kept his thumb circling while his fingers worked in and out. While Ferdinand’s hips shivered and sought more pressure, Hubert pressed on the plump head of his cock and rolled it over in his fingers, finally gathering it in his whole grip and stroking him firmly.
“ Nnnng!” Ferdinand groaned, twisting in response. The friction felt lighter as his own slickness increased, and his whole body began to tense, on the edge of release. Ferdinand could feel himself contract against Hubert’s fingers, he felt the pulsing constrict his muscles and he throbbed with rapidly fading pleasure. Hubert kissed him through his orgasm, muffling his own moans against his mouth, practically smothering them. Ferdinand inhaled sharply, trying to catch his breath as the waves faded and he began to feel limp against his husband’s hand. Hubert withdrew his fingers, brushing their slickness upward to paint his raised, sensitive cock with its own cum. It twitched visibly, and Ferdinand shuddered.
“Not satisfied yet?” Hubert chided, raising an eyebrow. “I knew you’d want more.”
“Wh….? Hubert– Ahhhn! ”
Ferdinand’s words were twisted cries once again as Hubert’s knuckles brushed along his dripping slit, still swollen from his first orgasm. He bit his lip as Hubert entered him again, this time picking up at the quick pace he had left off on. Ferdinand’s breath stuttered and heaved, not ready for such a sudden onslaught, when Hubert added a third finger inside him.
“ Ohhh—! Oh Hubert… you… it is too quick, you will ruin me too soon… I will not be able to… to properly enjoy this… Ah, please , slow down…”
Hubert smirked against the skin of Ferdinand’s throat, kissing him placatingly. “Do you really mean that? It doesn’t sound like you do… If you truly wanted less of me you wouldn’t sound so desperate for more.”
Ferdinand moaned, powerless to deny Hubert’s accusations. He grasped at Hubert’s arm, trying to push him back, but was swatted away.
“What is it you really want, Ferdinand? You know I can give it to you, better than anyone else. You know I can make you come undone better than you can do for yourself, right? Trust me. I know every beautiful inch of you.” He kissed the skin of his neck and shoulders, all the way down to his ribcage. “And you’re mine to cherish… to devour.”
Ferdinand groaned loudly, fists gripping the sheets, as another of Hubert’s fingers slipped past the entrance to his ass, leaving him filled in two places at once. He squirmed, trying to regain balance, but Hubert had him completely powerless and overwhelmed with stimulation. Ferdinand felt his walls swelling with heat again, desperate to be touched both inside and out from every angle. Luckily Hubert knew every single pressure point, every need for friction, and ravished him with his expert fingers.
Ferdinand had always adored Hubert’s hands that knew just what to do, better than any other man ever would. His fingers knew exactly how he worked and could play him like the string of a violin, curling, arcing, sliding, stroking, and rocking in vibrato… they knew Ferdinand’s shapes like Hubert had no doubt memorized his own for years. Their bodies were mirrors, but sometimes Hubert was the image on the lake’s surface, and sometimes Ferdinand was the one who felt unreal.
“That’s it… once more, just for me…” Hubert coaxed him, and Ferdinand saw the deviously triumphant look in his eyes just before shouting as orgasm overtook him, front and back, in helpless waves of soaking wet pleasure.
“Hubert…” Ferdinand pleaded.
Hubert pulled back his hands, glistening with cum, and admired them. He ran his tongue along his index finger and slowly closed his lips around it, then licked the rest of his fingers clean, as if the taste was something he craved. Ferdinand was seized with a boldness that surprised himself, and he lunged forward, tearing Hubert’s hand away from his own mouth and kissing him, stealing salty traces of himself from his tongue. Hubert made a guttural sound and Ferdinand knew he had scored a triumph.
The pulse was still fading from between his legs, and Ferdinand watched his husband as the glow faded from within him. He had to show Hubert the same expert appreciation—not only did Ferdinand refuse to be out-done, but he wanted to make Hubert physically feel the adoration that Ferdinand had for him. He would bring him to the same helpless bliss, if not even stronger.
Ferdinand’s heart was still pounding from his second climax. His breathing was labored, and he made no attempt to stifle it. He let Hubert see him hazy and disheveled, knowing the man was ever eager to savor the results on his victims. He pushed aside strings of orange hair, letting them stick to his damp neck, and leaned lower, watching ends of his hair brush Hubert’s stomach. He traced a teasing finger down Hubert’s sparse chest hair, spreading his hands out over the blotched scars and kissing each of them. He took his time and kissed fiercely at Hubert’s nipple, hoping to score some scrap of sensation there, and the twitching and grunting that answered him seemed to suggest that he succeeded. He sucked until he was certain it would leave a deep mark, then scraped his teeth along the taut, creased skin and kissed his way down Hubert’s navel.
“Now,” he said, “I believe it is your turn to beg for mercy.”
“Is it?” Hubert scoffed, but Ferdinand felt Hubert’s fingers grip his hair to brace himself.
Ferdinand shrugged, smirking. “Unless you would rather beg for punishment.”
Hubert gave quite a long laugh, genuinely amused. “If it’s from you, darling, then I beg of you, grant me yours.”
Ferdinand gripped his husband’s thighs and wrenched them apart, yanking his hips closer toward the edge of the bed and letting the muscles of his arms show as he pulled. Hubert exhaled sharply. Ferdinand knew he liked to be taken by surprise, that he secretly loved to be shut up and have pleasure forced on him. But most importantly, he could never hide how much he enjoyed being manhandled by Ferdinand, who was always stronger than he seemed. Ferdinand got a thrill from showing off too, and he let the broad outline of his muscled shoulders show before dipping his head down and brushing one teasing kiss between Hubert’s legs.
“Oh Hubert,” he chided, sliding a thumb down his slick perineum and tracing the dampness all the way to his asshole. “You are quite wet already. What is the matter, could you not wait for me? Was it too much for you just having your fingers inside me?”
“Tch,” Hubert scoffed, but he avoided his gaze.
Ferdinand gasped, doing his best to look hurt, and peered up at him closely. He put on his best pout, vexing, yet demeaning. “Darling, did you come already? Without me?”
The genuine flicker of guilt that crossed Hubert’s eyes was unexpected, but a rare delight to witness.
“Oh…” Ferdinand caressed a finger along him, grinning triumphantly. “I see.” Hubert shifted his legs, but the redhead’s hands were on his thighs in a flash, steadying him like a disobedient steed and forcing them apart again. “The invulnerable Hubert von Vestra just can’t control himself around me.”
Hubert sneered, half a protest dying on his lips before Ferdinand’s thumb pulled back the hood of his cock and appraised its stiffness after an already ruined orgasm.
“It seems you are utterly at my mercy, Hubert,” Ferdinand whispered over the thin skin inside dip of his hip, smiling smugly. “And that is exactly to my liking.”
Ferdinand sealed his words with his mouth and bit down sharply on the tendon inside Hubert’s thigh. It jumped beneath his teeth and Hubert grunted, this time leaning into the pain of his touch. Ferdinand hummed against his skin and kissed harshly upward over thickening hair and finally sighed hot breath over his raised cock. Hubert’s chin tipped backward with a strained sigh.
“Well, since you were so good to me earlier… would you like me to make you come again? So that I get to actually enjoy you this time?”
“Yes,” Hubert spat hoarsely.
“Ah,” Ferdinand chided through heavily-lidded eyes. “I do not hear you begging properly.”
Hubert bowed his head to bend down and whisper against Ferdinand’s hair.
“ Take me apart, ” he breathed, pleading like a prayer. “ Slowly. Please… please, until I can’t think anymore.”
Ferdinand gazed up at him adoringly, glowing from being given control, but also so eager to grant his beloved’s wish. The times when Hubert would admit he needed Ferdinand were rare, emotionally or otherwise, but seducing it from him was sometimes just as satisfying. He felt he was teaching Hubert to trust him with his heart, in more ways than one.
“My love, I will conquer you until the only word left on your lips is my name.”
Ferdinand pressed two gentle kisses at the joining of Hubert’s thighs before tracing the outline of him with the very tip of his tongue. His husband’s glowering face was already twisted in impatience, and Ferdinand wondered how long both of them could keep this up. His own mouth was also aching to be used, and holding back was proving trying for the both of them.
The first time he closed his mouth completely around his cock, Hubert cried out, voice cracking dryly. Ferdinand was sure to spread Hubert’s legs out farther to give his mouth better access to everything. He bobbed his head up and down with painful slowness, hollowing his cheeks cleverly and giving Hubert a show of his own length. He knew the sight of it drove Hubert crazy.
Dragging a thumbnail along his edge and eliciting a shudder, Ferdinand pulled off his swelling cock with a light smack and dragged his tongue downward until he could bury it deep inside Hubert, soaking his chin and nose in the process. Hubert tasted like salt and the tang of sweat, and it coated his tongue in a way that made him crave more. It was so hot inside him, and he pressed his tongue in deep until he felt Hubert shudder. He pulled out to take a breath and bring his glistening mouth into full view, wiping his chin dramatically.
Hubert was breathing quickly, his lips pressed thinly together and his jaw twitching. He stuttered something that couldn’t quite form into words.
“Say it,” the prime minister coaxed. “Say my name.”
“ F—Ferdinand, ” Hubert sighed, half worshipful and half frustration. It spurred Ferdinand on to hear it nonetheless. The name he had so proudly chosen for himself sounded sweet in his ears whenever anyone called it, but it sounded sweetest of all from the lips of his husband.
Ferdinand swept the flat of his tongue along his seam from bottom to top, humming as he went. His hair, which had been tucked behind his ear, was beginning to slip and tickle the insides of Hubert’s thighs. He felt Hubert’s hands gather the long hair loosely into one hand, twisting until he had hold of it like a rope. The threat of it being tugged painfully brought a grin to Ferdinand’s lips, and he eyed Hubert daringly before dipping his mouth down again.
He sealed his lips around Hubert’s swelling cock, which fit neatly within his mouth, and swirled his tongue around it lovingly. He adored how much Hubert’s plump cock filled him—a perfect mouthful that he was always more eager to savor than it would be gentlemanly to admit. There were days when the heated itch to be filled overtook his mouth, invading his daydreams while he worked, distracting him horribly. Sometimes he found his pen nibs chewed absently as a symptom. He sucked and licked hungrily, making no effort to hide the sounds or his labored breathing. He wanted Hubert to fill his mouth and his senses entirely.
Ferdinand sometimes felt a twinge of jealousy—whatever transformation magic Hubert had taught himself over the years had conjured for himself more of a length than Ferdinand had been able to grow naturally. Hubert was likely not even aware of his unorthodox success, he had probably only ever meant to look as much like himself as possible, and this was his closest result. Whatever the intent, he never saw Ferdinand as lacking for anything—practically worshipped him, even. And Ferdinand was more than happy to appreciate Hubert as he was.
He doubled down in intensity, sucking and bobbing until Hubert was twitching up to meet his mouth. Pausing, Ferdinand pulled back and opened his mouth to show Hubert’s cock looking full and heavy on his tongue. It had the intended effect, Hubert shivered and stared down at him, appearing intoxicated and under his spell.
Ferdinand’s own efforts and Hubert’s helpless pleasure were quickly sending heat to his own groin once more. He couldn’t help but let a hand drift between his legs and swirl two fingers around himself, teasing his own length in time with his mouth against Hubert. His length was stiffening painfully again, swollen thick from having come twice already and now unstoppably aroused by devouring Hubert. He indulged himself, carefully encircling his small cock in his whole palm to stroke himself in a motion that always felt deliciously right—not just right, but rectifying in a way he hadn’t always been able to achieve from earlier in his lifetime. He pumped his closed fist up and down, bobbing his head in time with his strokes, until it was quickly becoming too much for him. Still, he couldn’t help himself, thrusting into his hand eagerly and feeling the emotional high from the confirmation even more than the physical friction. Just as he started to feel pleasure building dangerously between his legs, Ferdinand felt an exquisitely painful shock on his scalp as Hubert wrenched his head upward and forced him to look into his eyes.
“Getting yourself off on this again, are you?” Hubert asked hazily, his fingers knotting in warning in the hair on Ferdinand’s scalp.
“Mmmm,” Ferdinand hummed over his cock, releasing it with an obscene trail of saliva. “I guess my performance is just good enough for both of us. Are you jealous?” He raised an eyebrow playfully.
“No—” Hubert said hastily, still struggling slightly for breath, “but promise me—together. I want to feel your mouth while you’re gasping against your own tremors... and mine.”
Ferdinand tried to nod, but his head was being suspended in place by Hubert’s fist in his hair. “I will,” he vowed.
“Good,” Hubert breathed. “And Ferdinand…” his fingers tightened.
Ferdinand let out a soft cry. “What is it?”
Hubert braced himself. “ Harder .”
Hubert released Ferdinand’s hair and he slumped forward. Ferdinand carefully tucked a ginger weft behind his ear, feeling the heat making the skin of his neck flush, and he looked up coyly.
“But Hubert,” he said in his most smug, seductive voice. “I have not heard you beg for that yet.”
He half-expected Hubert to sneer, to assure himself that he still had the upper hand here. But, to his delight, Hubert gripped the sheets, took a ragged breath, and looked up at him from beneath his disheveled bangs, and rasped “ Ferdinand, I beg of you. Give me everything you have. ”
It was like kicking spurs into the flank of a horse. Heart swelling, Ferdinand gripped Hubert’s hips with strong arms and yanked his pelvis toward his face, nails digging into the bony skin. He plunged down, swallowing, devouring him, and staining his nose with the scent of Hubert’s dark hair. The man’s body twitched and Ferdinand hitched one of Hubert’s legs upward, bending his knee and spreading him to gain even deeper access with his mouth. He cried aloud at that, fingers scraping at the sheets. The depth of his tongue was clearly not enough, but Hubert had no way to seek more friction and he was panting, folding inward and shuddering. He tried to prop himself up on the pillows but Ferdinand yanked him back down again with a thud , and Hubert moaned, elated at being physically put in his place.
After a few more minutes, he angle was beginning to strain his neck, and Ferdinand, still a failure in the art of anticipation, wanted badly to give his husband what he craved. He made eye contact, releasing his mouth and looking thoroughly desperate.
“Hubert,” he commanded, “take me… use my mouth.”
With a groan, Hubert clearly took the hint. He rose to his knees and Ferdinand joined him on the bed. Hubert gripped Ferdinand by the shoulders and forced him onto his back, and straddled him. He was dripping, and he looked magnificent from this angle, Ferdinand thought.
He lowered himself into Ferdinand’s mouth, gripping the sides of his head to steady himself. Ferdinand was completely surrounded by his husband, practically being smothered by him as Hubert fucked into his mouth—gently at first, then with less control. His legs were already shaking, and he grew more unsteady with each slick thrust. Ferdinand gripped his narrow thighs to brace him, and was rewarded with a moan of praise.
“That’s it, Ferdinand… you’re so perfect for me like this.... Right there. Flames , I’m so close…”
Ferdinand moaned encouragingly, sucking as deeply as possible and feeling his jaw ache in Hubert’s hands. He reached helplessly for his own length, stroking and edging himself, trying frantically to keep pace.
“Almost… argh… Together…!”
The heat around his mouth was nearly unbearable. Hubert’s cock twitched thickly on Ferdinand’s tongue and he cried out above him. Ferdinand couldn’t help but moan in unison, stroking himself in tandem and writhing as his own pulses overtook him, almost sympathetically, as they came together.
Hubert was panting harshly, finishing himself buried deep in Ferdinand’s mouth until he was nearly doubled over. Ferdinand’s eyes were damp at the corners and he was already feeling stiff. Hubert swung his shaking leg to dismount Ferdinand and roll onto his back, still shuddering and sensitive. Ferdinand’s pulses had not quite died out and he pulled himself close, wrapping his arms around him and rocking his pelvis gently against Hubert’s thigh to ride out the aching end of his orgasm. He reached his hand between Hubert’s legs, smoothing over him gently and easing him down through the end of his climax. Hubert’s eyes rolled back blissfully and he whispered Ferdinand’s name reverently. The red haired man smiled, eyes hazy and cheeks glowing.
He kissed Hubert’s chest and laid his head down as they both caught their breath, feeling sweat creep over their bodies and turning clammy.
“Darling…” Ferdinand panted, throat still slightly hoarse. He reached for Hubert’s hand and his husband gave it, entwining their fingers and sweaty palms lovingly.
Ferdinand was always hungrier for kisses than Hubert was, needing them like reassurance or often just like breathing. He reached for a single, gentle kiss with his exhausted mouth, pulling away to let Hubert rest, but to his surprise Hubert caught his cheek and held him close, indulging him with a slow, warm kisses, despite both of them being overheated and overstimulated. Ferdinand’s heart swelled, they soothed his frantic pulse and felt like silent vows of love that he hadn’t known he was needing to hear. Finally sated, Ferdinand rested his face in the crook of Hubert’s neck, whispering silly nothings of adoration to his husband, who waved them away with a fond scoff.
“Hubert, my love?”
“Hmm?” He humphed hoarsely.
“How was I? Was it to your liking?”
Hubert laughed, rolling his eyes and brushing fingers through his husband’s tangled red hair. “Thoroughly. Beautifully so.”
He smiled triumphantly, pleased with himself. “I am glad. You are quite the match for me yourself. ”
A strange look passed over Hubert’s eyes as he stared, lost in clouded thought. “Truly?” he whispered, the tired rasp still lingering in his voice.
Ferdinand could sense his uncertainty. “Hubert,” he placed a hand palm on his husband’s chest, caressing one of the blotched scars. He looked up at him with wide, adoring brown eyes. “As ever, I would have you over any man in all of Fódlan. You are everything I want.”
Hubert’s mouth quirked into a smile. The shadow above his brow seemed to lift and he turned to press a kiss to Ferdinand’s forehead.
“And you are mine, my dear.”