Chapter Text
Chapter Three
Dunk almost thought he made a mistake.
Aerion leapt at him, roaring and snarling so fiercely, Dunk might as well have been fighting a young dragon. But the alpha ignored him, seizing him by the belt and ripping it from the loops while Aerion rained furious scratches down on every inch of free skin. Scratches that only served to sharpen Dunk’s determination.
Protests unrelented, even when Dunk shoved his hand into Aerion’s trousers and found him hard as steel, already leaking. The scent of his arousal so strong, it hardened Dunk’s cock as well.
He wants this.
It wasn’t what Ser Arlan taught him. The aging knight always, always told him to never touch a partner who wasn’t completely calm, willing, and happy to be touched. Aerion was anything but calm and happy.
But he was willing. And Dunk’s alpha side growled ferally at the scent of his omega’s desire.
Then let’s give him what he wants.
“Get off me!” Aerion roared, drawing back his hand to slap Dunk hard across the face. A slap, not a punch. And nowhere near as hard as he knew Aerion was capable of hitting.
“No.”
He grabbed Aerion’s shirt, yanking and ripping until the seams of the finely-crafted fabric frayed and fell apart in his hands. His pants followed, then he tossed Aerion over his shoulder again to rip the shoes off his feet. The omega fought. Fought. Fought, but there was nothing he could do as Dunk threw him down onto the bed…
After making sure the blanket covered the sheets, an extra layer of protection against any stray blades of straw.
“Filthy, stupid, baseborn…AH!” he yelped as Dunk flipped him onto his belly and slapped his bare ass, pinkening his snow-white skin.
“Are you going to behave?” Dunk challenged, to which Aerion glared at him from over his shoulder.
“Fuck you.”
Alright then.
Again and again, he spanked his snarling omega, even as the scent of his arousal grew unbearably thick. Dunk’s own cock ached in his pants. Slick coated Aerion’s ass and thighs, and despite his frantic kicks to free himself, Dunk saw him grinding against the blanket, moaning almost inaudibly at the friction. Still, Dunk spanked him, long after Aerion’s ass went red.
Even now, Aerion still growled his defiance, unrelenting, and Dunk lacked the patience to wear him down.
But mayhaps I can make him beg. The memory tugged at his mind.
Pinning the prince firmly in place, Dunk spread his cheeks and lapped his tongue along his hole. Sweet, slippery slick coated his tongue, and Dunk’s cock throbbed so hard he feared he may cum before he undressed.
Worth it. All worth it. Aerion’s cry of pleasure was unworldly.
“F-fuck y-” Aerion gasped, whining as Dunk did it again, this time swirling his tongue around the tight rim. The third lick undid him altogether, wanton moans echoing off the walls.
“More…” Aerion growled, the proud omega trying so hard to sound demanding rather than pleading. A lie that fooled neither of them.
It’s working.
So recently a virgin, Dunk had never truly pleased an omega this way before, but Aerion’s pants and breathy cries spurred him on, and he lowered his head once again.
Learning as he went, Dunk plunged his tongue into Aerion’s entrance, lapping, swirling, and spearing it inside. Aerion’s screams of pleasure guided him, the prince crying out as he came once, then twice, still grinding against the mattress, seeking more friction. Multiple climaxes that the Gods only saw fit to gift omegas.
Even now, ass beet-red, covered in slick and his own cum, his omega clung to his pride as if his life depended on it. Dunk could feel him shift and tremble, wanting desperately to be knotted, but Aerion refused to beg. Refused to so much as whimper.
Some part of Dunk wanted to press him harder. To push him until he broke, a pleading, mewling, submissive mess to cling to him. To make him submit voluntarily without needing to pin him.
A desire that withered and died before it could truly form.
I do not want a submissive omega. I want Aerion. He stroked the princeling’s pale skin. To break his pride would be to break him.
Twisting his head, Aerion glared at him, defiance glittering in his purple eyes. “Going to fuck me, or do you plan on staring until daybreak?”
Dunk couldn’t help but laugh, releasing his grip just enough to grab the ties on his own pants. “You breathtakingly wonderful brat.”
“Hmph!” But Aerion’s scent could not lie, bright and sweet with delight over the compliment.
Slick flowed from Aerion’s entrance, but all the same, Dunk scooped some from his thighs and coated his cock liberally before he slipped inside. Wet and slippery as always, free of rough dryness. If he had any doubts his omega wanted it, the way Aerion jerked backwards, spearing himself on Dunk’s cock, dispelled them.
“I’d write you instructions if I thought you capable of reading,” Aerion said. “Move. And don’t you dare fuck me like I’m some fragile doll.”
No, I definitely don’t want a submissive omega.
He started slow at first, reluctant to risk hurting him again, but the gentle touch only frustrated his omega. And so Dunk fucked him harder. Harder. And harder still until the bedframe slammed threateningly against the wall. Only then did Aerion’s eyes roll back, moaning in wanton bliss.
He tried to hold back. Held back just long enough for Aerion to cum a third time, unabashedly shouting without a care in the world who heard him. But the feel of his omega squeezing his cock left Dunk gasping. Just as Aerion began rutting back against him again, he felt his balls grow tight, and he knew the battle was lost. Knot swelling, he slammed inside up to the hilt, grunting through his own release.
He likes more than three…the stray thought twisted through the pleasured fog.
Sure enough, Aerion reached back a few seconds later, seizing Dunk’s hand and yanking it to his crotch.
Dunk smiled, chuckling softly. He’s himself again.
“I’ve got you,” he promised. He pumped his rough, calloused fist around Aerion’s cock, stroking him just the way he knew his omega liked.
Knot locking him inside his omega, fresh waves of pleasure coursed through Dunk every time Aerion moaned. Every time he shouted, cumming hard in Dunk’s hand. Every time Aerion dug his fingernails into Dunk’s wrist, wordlessly commanding him not to even think about pulling his hand away yet.
It was only after his sixth orgasm that Aerion finally began to tremble, cock going soft in Dunk’s grip. He stilled his movements, but still gripped Aerion loosely until the last waves of pleasure began to fade.
Unable to help himself, Dunk leaned over his omega’s back, nipping his ear playfully. “Ready to admit you are grateful I didn’t lose my hand at Ashford Meadow?”
“Shut up,” Aerion huffed, but not before Dunk heard the barest whisper of a laugh.
Never thought I’d cherish someone’s laugh so much.
At last soft, he extracted himself, arm supporting Aerion’s waist so the omega would not topple onto the soiled blanket. He carefully tucked Aerion onto his side before hurrying to his feet and soaking a fresh cloth with clean water.
This time, Aerion gave no objection when Dunk helped to clean him. Once his skin was free of cum, slick, and the worst of his sweat, he stretched out, grinning like a lazy cat.
Most wonderfully of all, when Dunk tugged the ruined blanket off the bed, carefully fluffed down the straw, and climbed in next to him, Aerion curled in next to him. Resting his face against Dunk’s chest, he began to purr, so soft and sweet it made Dunk’s heart swell…
For all the five seconds it lasted.
Catching himself, Aerion’s purr deepened into a warning rumble, peeking up at Dunk with an adorable scowl. Wordlessly threatening him, I most certainly was not purring, and if you dare say otherwise, I’ll bloody your lip.
Dunk wisely swallowed his laugh.
Satisfied that he’d intimidated Dunk, Aerion flopped back down and allowed both of them to enjoy the afterglow in comfortable silence. Even traced the pads of his fingers along the scratch marks he’d left on Dunk’s arms, the closest he’d ever come to saying ‘I’m sorry’.
“Didn’t think you had it in you, hedge knight,” he said, an unfamiliar hint of admiration in his voice.
“Hmm?”
“I am a prince. And I will be treated with the reverence due any Targaryen prince. But sometimes…” Aerion arched an eyebrow at him, smirking a sexy grin. “Every once in a while, even a prince wishes to be treated like a whore.”
Aerion trailed his nails down Dunk’s chest. Gentler now, a soothing scratch free of pain.
“Next time the urge strikes, you needn’t be so gentle about it,” he added. “I’m not fragile; I shan’t break. Leave your bruises. Please me just right, and I may even let you grab me by the throat.”
Dunk’s brow furrowed. He didn’t particularly like the idea of hurting his omega, and the thought of grabbing him by the throat unnerved him.
But he wouldn’t deny that some dark part of him purred at the thought. An alpha’s urge to dominate coupled with lingering traces of resentment he had not yet let go of after the tourney. An urge he would never give into normally.
But if it only happened once in a while, and if Aerion liked it…
His omega gently brushed one of his scratch marks again. “Though I must warn you that it’s not fun unless I can fight back freely.”
“I don’t mind,” Dunk said, cheeks flushing pink.
Aerion fell silent, his expression unreadable, but he shook it away.
“I could have fought you off,” he said a bit petulantly. “Were I truly fighting.”
Dunk kissed his forehead. “I know.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not,” he said. Taking Aerion’s wrist, he guided the omega’s hand to a scar that cut deep into Dunk’s shoulder. A scar Aerion himself had left. “Omega or no, you’re a better warrior than me.”
Appeased, Aerion’s face smoothed, nodding in satisfaction. Not a flicker of regret to be found.
You vain little monster.
“Did you even grieve the loss of your uncle?” Dunk asked. He’d meant to ask calmly, but a sharp note punctuated the words.
Fuck, he cursed himself. He was happy. Sated. We were both comfortable. Why did I…
But to his surprise, Aerion did not meet his question with anger.
“I respected Baelor as a warrior, and I accepted him as my future king, but I scarcely knew him,” he said. “We certainly weren’t close, and he died fighting to help people who wished me dead. What sympathies I have are reserved for my father.”
Anger clawed at Dunk…until he saw Aerion’s eyes. The same something from the stable. Only it lingered longer now. Long enough for him to identify it.
Pain.
The sight burned away his anger, and he wrapped an arm around Aerion instead, driven by an alpha’s instinct to soothe.
Baelor’s death had pained Dunk so fiercely he never thought to consider that it might have felt like a betrayal to Aerion.
“Your father’s grief is heavy,” Dunk said instead, remembering the tears Maekar refused to let himself shed at Baelor’s funeral.
Aerion shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. My father…”
He clamped his mouth, growling, but not fast enough to hide another flash of pain. This time, accompanied with a deeper one of longing.
It took Dunk a moment to get it, memories of Ashford Meadow creeping in slowly. He’d been hurt himself, head ringing, but not so much that he’d forgotten.
Maekar did it for you, Dunk remembered. Not for honor, or anger, or bloodlust. For love. The love of a father who heard his son screaming in pain.
And then he sent him away…
“Your father loves you.”
Aerion growled louder, squirming back out of Dunk’s grip.
“Do not dare presume to speak of my father!”
“Omega…”
“All of this is your fault!” he spat.
“My fault?” Dunk gaped at him. “My fault? This all started because you snapped that poor girl’s finger damn near off.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your precious whore.” Aerion’s scent flared, a sharp, bitter smell that quelled Dunk’s anger.
Is he…jealous?
“You ignore my invitation to fawn over her instead,” Aerion’s lip curled. “And then you struck me. For her!”
Whatever was left of Dunk’s anger vanished, leaving only confusion in its wake. “Invitation?” he asked. “You never invited me to anything.”
Had he missed a message? Perhaps…
“When I first arrived at Ashford, I could not have made myself any clearer!” Aerion half-screeched.
“What in the Seven Hells are you talking about, you mad cunt?”
Aerion sat up, looming over Dunk, their faces inches from each other.
“I was tired, frustrated, and annoyed at being dragged to that shitstain of a castle in the middle of nowhere. And I’d grown bored of fucking Ser Donnel during the trek.”
“Wait, you fucked Ser Donnel?” Aren’t the Kingsguard sworn to chastity?
Aerion ignored him. “You were the biggest, strongest, and best-looking alpha who received us. I was seeking some entertainment, and I was willing to allow you the privilege of joining me in my bed. AND YOU IGNORED ME!”
WHAT?!
“You NEVER offered to bring me to your bed!”
Slow as he may sometimes be, he would have remembered that. Vividly. And he would have leapt at the opportunity, grateful to lose his virginity with anyone, let alone a prince. The most beautiful omega he’d seen before or since.
But Aerion never offered anything of the sort.
“I flirted with you, you imbecile!”
“You did?”
Dunk racked his brain. He remembered that interaction, but when had Aerion flirted with him?
Aerion balled his fist. “Did you expect me to drop my pants, shove my ass in the air, and demand you fuck me before the eyes of the crowd?”
“Actually telling me that’s what you wanted would have been nice!”
“I’m a prince! Princes do not ask alphas for sex. They grant alphas permission to pursue them.”
Dunk leaned back rubbing the heel of his hand against his temple. “And how was I meant to know that? Until I met you, I thought omegas weren’t permitted to bed anyone until they were mated.”
“Omega women, perhaps. I am a man. I never would have survived my first heat without an alpha in my bed.”
Dunk swallowed his growl, trying very, very hard not to let his anger swell at the thought of another alpha claiming Aerion while he was in heat…and silently vowing to break Ser Donnel’s jaw if he ever saw him again.
“You expect me to believe you didn’t know I extended you the invitation?”
Dunk glared at him. “You’re always going on and on about what an idiot I am! And now you play surprised that I missed some cryptic offer?”
Aerion blinked once. Twice. Some of the anger draining from his face as he sat back on his heels. “You truly didn’t know?”
“Why would I assume a prince wanted to take me to bed?”
Folding his arms, Aerion drummed his fingers along his still-bare flesh. “I suppose that would be presumptuous. And you are an idiot.”
Shrugging, as though the matter were resolved, Aerion laid back down. He grabbed a pillow, making himself comfortable while Dunk stared at him incredulously.
Tilting his head, Aerion asked innocently, “What more is there to say? It was a misunderstanding due to your idiocy.”
Dunk tried to speak, but a strange honking sound came out instead.
“Drink some water and clear your throat,” Aerion advised. “I have no desire to hear you snore.”
“I’m not thirsty!” Dunk roared. “You just told me that ALL of this, Tanselle’s finger, the Trial, Baelor’s death, all of it happened because you were angry that I didn’t realize you were flirting with me?”
“Of course not,” Aerion said calmly. “Yes, I went to the puppet show to see why you’d chosen the whore over me, but after that, it was a chain reaction.”
All Dunk could do was gape at him, head throbbing. He grabbed another pillow, pressed it to his lips, and screamed as loud as he could possibly scream. Over and over again until his throat cracked, and he let the pillow fall back to the bed.
And Aerion? He had the audacity to smile.
“Feel better?” he asked amusedly.
“No!”
Stretching, Aerion folded his arms beneath the pillow, looking up at Dunk. His eyes were bright and beautiful. Happy, as he so seldom was. Gleeful at the chaos his confession caused.
“Should it not be some consolation to learn that I was interested in you back then?”
It was. Despite everything, it was. The thought that Aerion had wanted him back then made Dunk’s chest swell.
It didn’t change the fact that he wanted to scream again.
But just as he was about to open his mouth and say that they could have avoided all of this if Aerion had simply told Dunk what he wanted, the words died in his throat.
If he had done that, I would be no more than one more notch in his bedpost. Quickly forgotten. The thought was like a knife in his heart. And there would be no chance he would want to mate with me one day, rather than a slim chance.
Aerion snickered, patting the mattress next to him. “Lie down, Ser Duncan. We have a long ride tomorrow. And I wish to sleep against your chest. You’re softer than the mattress.”
With a teasing smirk, he added. “And since this all began because you misunderstood me, I shall endeavor to be clearer in the future about my wants.”
Dunk didn’t want to lie down. And the sight of Aerion smirking when so much pain and death could have been avoided…
Growling, he surged forward, grabbed Aerion, and bit him hard on the shoulder. Teeth pierced skin, blood dancing across Dunk’s tongue. Aerion writhed, crying out in pain with no orgasmic haze to soften the sting, but he didn’t fight back. Even when Dunk bit deeper.
But when Dunk pulled back, licking blood from his lips, his omega looked up at him, grinning cheekily once again.
“If you wish me to stop vexing you, stop being so delightfully fun to vex,” he simpered.
“Monster.” Dunk grimaced.
“Dragon,” Aerion corrected.
I hate you. Words he would never say. Because in his heart, he knew they weren’t true.
Defiant whilst omegas were meant to be submissive.
Violent whilst omegas were meant to be calm.
Infuriating, cruel, vain, selfish, and spoiled. Nothing an omega was meant to be. Nothing worthy of the love or adoration that Aerion so clearly craved.
And Dunk adored him all the same.
“What wicked, sinful thing have I done that was so horrible, the Gods saw fit to curse me by making me love you?”
Aerion shook his head, grin never fading, but beneath the sadistic glee, Dunk saw the way he preened. The way the word ‘love’ flooded the omega’s eyes with a brief but powerful longing. Longing that echoed in Dunk’s own heart.
Yes, I love you, you aggravating monster.
“Lie down, Ser Duncan,” he repeated, gentler this time. “Lie down and yield.”
Defeated, he obeyed. Aerion scarcely waited until he was comfortable before curling in next to Dunk again, leaning against him. The wonderful scent of a pleased omega engulfed Dunk completely.
He smelled like home.
Aerion brushed his lips against Dunk’s shoulder, then scraped his teeth against the flesh just above the new scar. The breath froze in Dunk’s lungs.
Is he…
He didn’t. Aerion kissed him again, but no bite followed. Yet when Dunk studied his omega, he saw that Aerion had not meant it as a taunt. All traces of mirth had faded, leaving only a cold blankness in its wake.
He’s not ready. But he thought about it. And perhaps one day…
A dream to ponder tomorrow. For now, Aerion curled in against him tighter, finally settling into sleep. And just as he was halfway between asleep and awake, he began to purr again.