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"You are a menace to society, Henry of Skalitz." Hans called out. He heard the other man's deep laugh somewhere out of his range of vision. This blasted helmet was like looking through a crack in a door.
"Just hold still, I'll have them free in a second." Henry laughed from behind him. Hans pulled himself up to his knees and rested back on his heels. He started to feel tugging against his gauntlets. Henry laughed harder. "Hans, what the fuck did you do. They're completely stuck!"
Hans gave his own frustrated pull on his arms. "At least open my visor."
His helmet was tugged about, and the visor creaked open only a fraction. But even that was a relief. Hans was no longer breathing back in to his own face. It didn't take more than a few breaths to realise he now couldn't see at all. Then the tugging continued on his arms.
"Hans, did you trip and fall in to a laundry mangle." Henry giggled.
"Henry, I do not know how you did it but you have made it worse. I cannot see a blasted thing."
"At least you can breathe."
"Small victories, eh?" Hans chuckled. "So. What exactly has happened to my hands?"
"You somehow managed to snag them on the stupid fancy trim of your surcoat. Like a nail caught in linen. I sorted that out." Hans heard Henry appear next to him. In front of him. He thought.
"Then why can I still not move my arms?"
"Oh. I tied them back there." Matter-of-fact. It took a bit of time for the words to trickle in. Hans tested his arms.
"Why- Why, Henry?"
Henry grabbed the bottom of his helmet. Shoving his fingers (his gauntleted fingers) in to the gap and scraping against Hans' chin. He let out a whimper of protest as he was hauled upright; still on his knees.
"You looked too good on your knees." Henry's breath flooded the helmet. "With your arms pulled behind you."
"Henry, not here." Hans laughed.
"It's an abandoned duelling ring. It's fine."
"But it's so open." A little bit of hysteria rose in his voice. But it vied for a place against the desire and excitement.
"If anyone was to look they wouldn't know what was happening." Henry's plated fingers shifted in the helmet. He was just moving them around, dragging over Hans' mouth, cheek, chin. But Hans could also feel the other man's breath. He was so close to Hans. Henry gave a gentle shake of the helmet.
"What are you going to do then?"
"Nothing. It's going to be all you." A finger dragged up Hans' chin and pushed in to his mouth. He put up a fight for show but in it went. It was too big. His padded coif held his head in the helmet snuggly. With Henry's hand still in there with him he couldn't open as wide, and with the leather and plates too he was filled with just one digit. The helmet was now suddenly too small. He couldn't see. He shook his head, panic rising.
"I've got you Hans." Henry whispered, pulling his finger free allowing Hans to gasp. "I'll never do anything to hurt you. You tell me to stop with words or your body, and I will."
"Thank you." Hans said hoarsely. Then a pause as he brought his breathing back down. "Don't stop."
*
Henry knew it was a bit on-the-nose for him to get pleasure out of seeing Hans on his knees. The lord had been a bane from the very start and he loved having control in these moments. On reflection he knew at first it was the control, but now it was the trust. Henry had broken Hans enough that the trust and permission to do this was what brought satisfaction. Henry never had to come himself. The journey through the scene was what he loved. The build up as his blood heated. As he saw Hans come undone from Henry. He would seek his own relief another time. Unless he decided Hans deserved the reward.
Henry was wearing tried and tested armour in contrast to Hans' shiny, smooth, surcoated armour. Henry's was well cared for, but beaten up. He had no room in his life for tournament armour. When the red mist descended he could tear men apart in just his braies and revel in the pain. His pain. The armour was really for Hans'. The other man always feared losing Henry. And the ritual of putting on the armour was Henry's way of saying he was going to come back. Look at me putting on the barrier, showing that I care for you. This is my love.
Hans was kneeling so well for him. The weight of the armour on his shoulders, the arms pulled back tightly, upright. Just beautiful. Anything he did to Hans in this state would have to be exaggerated. He couldn't see the red flush on the pale lord's chest, or the way he would clench his stomach as he held back his orgasm. Anything that happened now would have to be visceral and exaggerated. And with no skin other than the other mans chin and mouth there was not much for Henry, either. This was going to be magnificent.
"My heart. I wish you could see yourself." Henry had long stood up, and paced around him. He reached for the crown of the helmet and pulled it back. He couldn't see Hans' mouth, the visor blocked it from this angle. "I want you to talk to me, I want to hear you because I can't see you. I want you to moan and whimper. I need to see you move, I want you to rut like a dog to seek out the friction you need. And when you're done we are going to spar with your seed drying in your braies."
"Henry." Hans whined. "I can't get friction." He had started rocking back and forth as soon as Henry had given him permission. He was writhing on his knees. He had fallen back on to his ankles and started grinding down on them. His tasset was not yielding. Henry moved to his front. The tasset curved up and around Hans' crotch. His mail coat draped down between his legs, with no codpiece.
With force, and with no warning, Henry shoved his solleret in to the gap and ground down. Hans cried out. A full, deep throated cry. And started pushing back.
"Talk to me, Hans."
"Perfect. This is perfect. I need this. Oh lord have mercy." Henry pulled away. "No! Henry, no!" Henry shivered. The voice was horrendous. It was the sound of someone seeing their lover die. "Come back!"
"You didn't finish?" Hans just shook his head.
"You- you didn't say I could." Hans begged. "But please, come back. I need it."
"What do you need. You're a self-proclaimed scholar my lord Hans. Use your pretty words." Henry stood back and folded his arms.
"You."
"Not good enough." Henry smiled. "What do I give you?"
"Release?" Hans responded as if he hoped it was the right answer.
"You give yourself release, Hans. What do I do to help that?"
"Permission?" Henry just laughed. "Henry, please. My mind is addled. I can't think. I can't do this." Henry watched as Hans shuffled his legs closer together. Trying to get some pressure between them. Anything to try and rub his cock on something. "You give me freedom." Hans sobbed. "I don't have to be a scholar with you."
Henry frowned. This was enough. His foot went back to Hans crotch, the other man cried out. "Come."
Hans rutted, Henry seated his other foot to better hold himself up. Hans pushed hard against it. Hans made noise. Hans cried out. Hans screamed with his release.
As soon as that happened Henry lurched forward, removed the helmet and pulled the slip knot free and held Hans close. The other man was openly crying. Henry held his face against his own, the only skin free for contact. He pulled away briefly and wrenched his sabatons free. And brought both hands to Hans face.
"My love, my heart. I'm here." His thumbs wiped Hans face. "We will stay here for as long as you need. What do you need from me. I'm yours."
"Stay." Hans said. "That's all. I need you to stay forever."