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“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Come now, Erik,” Sebastian taunts, “don’t tell me you want to change your mind now? Look at this place! Any one of these blasted candlesticks is worth more than we’d ever make in a year! Imagine how much gold we’ll get as a reward!”
His stepbrother turns and pushes ahead without waiting for a reply, and Erik has no choice but to hurry and follow. So far, they’ve encountered no real difficulties on their adventure; nothing more than a few dire warnings, uttered from an old crone in the village nestled at the foothills of the abandoned castle.
“The place is cursed,” the old woman intones, hunched over and covered head to toe in a cloak of midnight blue. “Dark things live in Castle Xavier, young masters. Many have gone before you. None have ever returned.”
Sebastian shakes his head, dismissing her warning with a mocking laugh. “And I heard that a young prince sleeps in the highest tower, waiting for the day true love comes to wake him from an endless slumber. That he will marry the one who breaks the spell and return this land to its former glory! Who’s to say that person isn’t me? Or Erik here, for that matter!”
The old woman makes a disapproving sound, and for a moment, Erik catches of glimpse of bright red hair under her hood. “Heed my warning, stranger. Things are not always what they seem.”
The words stay with him through their long trek up to the castle’s outer walls, the path barely discernable through the thick undergrowth. They arrive to find the gates to the inner keep thrown wide open, a gaping maw that swallows them whole as they step through, sending a naked shiver down Erik’s spine.
The front doors open on silent hinges, swinging wide to reveal a cavernous hall of stone and marble. The mid afternoon sun filters down through the windows set high upon the walls, casting eerie shadows across the carpeted floors. Erik jumps at the sight of the first body they come across, an armored guard slumped at his post. Even Sebastian looks wary, as he leans over for a closer look.
“Is he dead?” Erik asks.
“I don’t know, I don’t think so,” Sebastian answers, as he prods the man’s face with a finger. “He’s warm, but I can’t tell if he’s breathing.”
They find more bodies the farther in they go, men and women in silent repose, as though they simply fell asleep in the midst of their daily routine. Erik had expected this, based on the tales he heard as a child; expected to find the castle and its inhabitants covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, untouched during their hundred year sleep.
He does not expect what they find instead, the rooms spotlessly clean, not a trace of disuse to be found in any direction they turn. The servants and guards, nobles and knights are all perfectly pristine, collapsed in their chairs or leaning against a wall, a living tableau frozen in time. Erik’s unease only increases with every step they take, and Sebastian too seems more subdued as they finally reach the wide, sweeping stairs that lead to the upper floors.
Sebastian leads and he follows, as they take the winding steps to the second level. There they pass many more opulent rooms filled with silent statues, before they find the entrance to the Prince’s tower. More steps take them up and up a circular path, until a wooden door appears at the end of their climb.
“Come on,” Sebastian whispers, pushing the door open to reveal the inner chamber. It is large for a bedroom, with a table and two chairs in one corner, and a large chest in another. There are stacks of books strewn about the room in small piles, some on the furnishings and others on the floor. And in the middle of it all is a giant bed draped in silks, and a body laying beneath the sheets.
Sunlight spills in from the balcony, bathing the room in a warm, golden light. As Erik draws closer he can see that the bed is facing out towards the open sky, from where a lone figure could sit and watch the birds floating by. It feels like a violation, to breech the Prince’s quarters as they have; like they are seeing something not meant for mortal eyes.
“Look, it’s really him,” his stepbrother murmurs, the awe in his voice pulling Erik from his musings. He turns to join Sebastian at the foot of the bed, and then allows himself a moment to simply be astonished by what he sees.
There is a boy laying amidst the nest of white, beautiful and serene in his sleep. His face is smooth and youthful, sporting brown curls that fall softly across his forehead. The redness of his mouth is a stark contrast to the paleness of his creamy skin, making him appear otherworldly in Erik’s eyes.
He is an angel, amongst men.
“Charles,” he breathes, the name of the Prince falling unbidden from his lips. Much of the circumstances surrounding the tragedy has been lost to time, as well as the right way to counter the curse. But the Prince’s name is still spoken each time the tale is told, the only truth that remains after a century gone by.
“Yes,” Sebastian agrees, and then, “I’m going to kiss him.”
“What?”
Erik is studiously ignored, as Sebastian kicks off his mud caked boots, and promptly climbs onto the bed. He leans down and kisses Charles with a pleased hum, taking his time to explore the Prince’s mouth thoroughly. Nothing happens, so he pulls away with a shrug and turns to Erik. “Now you try.”
He narrows his eyes at Sebastian but doesn’t argue, kicking his own boots off with a grunt. Climbing onto the other side he simply stares for a moment, breathless with wonder and anticipation.
“Hurry up.”
Erik ignores him, and leans forward to bracket Charles in his arms, his hands gentle on the Prince’s face. Charles’ lips are warm and soft, and part easily at the press of his tongue. The disappointment is surprisingly sharp when he too gets no response, Sebastian’s chuckle doing nothing to ease the unexpected ache.
He pulls back, refusing to meet the man’s knowing gaze. Erik has never shared his childhood dreams with anyone else; how he wished so fervently to someday be the one to break the spell. And now that he has seen Charles with his own eyes, the faint yearning has morphed into a desire all-encompassing.
“What do we do now?”
Sebastian looks down at Charles with a furrowed brow, before gripping him by the arms and shaking him roughly. When that garners no response he slaps the Prince across the cheek, earning a glare and a warning growl from Erik. Next, they take turns trying to rouse him – splashing cool water from their waterskins on his face, yelling loudly and clapping their hands, and pinching his arms and legs – but nothing works. They are both frustrated with their lack of success, and though Erik is loath to give up, he can think of no other way to wake Charles from his slumber.
“We should go,” he says, grabbing his satchel off the ground with an impatient tug. “We’ll take a few small things on the way out. Things that won’t be missed, like silverware. That should more than enough to cover the expenses from our journey here, and leave us a little to upgrade the shop.”
“Hmm,” Sebastian answers, clearly distracted, and Erik turns to see that his eyes are gleaming with…something. Erik knows that look well, having been dragged along for much of his life to help Sebastian with his ‘good ideas’.
“What?”
“Your Prince…he’s very pretty. Isn’t he, Erik?”
“Yes, and he’s not my Prince.”
Sebastian chuckles, giving Erik an amused look. “You could make him yours, brother. You could take him, right here, in his virgin bed. Who would know? There’s no one here but you and me.”
“What? No!” Erik yells, his response fierce and immediate. “How could you suggest—”
“Please,” his stepbrother interrupts, dismissing Erik’s rage and indignation with a casual wave of his hand. “You forget who you’re talking to. Don’t pretend to be a saint, Erik. It doesn’t suit you. And don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. What it would be like to fuck your sweet, sleeping beauty.”
His face burns with humiliation at having his inner most thoughts so callously exposed. Yet he can’t deny Sebastian’s accusations, his roiling lust undeniable the moment he first laid eyes on Charles.
“No, I won’t,” he insists, clutching his hands into fists, viciously squashing the spark of guilty excitement brewing in his gut. “We’re leaving.”
But Sebastian was never one to be easily dissuaded; he makes himself comfortable on the bed and nestles against Charles’ side, his hand splayed across the Prince’s chest. “Erik,” he teases, “don’t you at least want to take a peek?”
He should stop him, should reach out and shove the bastard off the bed and haul him out of the room. Instead, Erik stands frozen as he watches, his limbs unwilling to move as Sebastian slides the sheet off Charles’ body. With quick fingers he unties the laces of the well made tunic, pulling it up and over his head, revealing a naked torso and miles of soft and unblemished skin.
“Stop,” he orders, but there’s no real heat behind his words. Sebastian is only too aware of Erik’s crumbling resolve, and does not bother to heed his demands. He strips the rest of Charles’ clothes with a deft hand, and soon the young man is bared completely for their pleasure, skin made golden by the lazy rays of the afternoon sun.
“Look at him,” Sebastian murmurs, hand tracing a line along Charles’ throat, following the contours of his collarbone down to his chest. Erik sucks in a breath when Sebastian rubs lightly across a pink nipple, and imagines the taste of it, the nub hardening against his tongue. “He’s perfect.”
Erik has no words to describe the view in front of him; can only devour every inch of smooth skin and muscle with unbelieving eyes. Charles has yet to fully grow into a man’s body, almost hairless but for the soft bed of curls under his cock. He is a vision of innocence and purity, and Erik wants desperately to preserve it and pervert it all at once.
He should have known that Sebastian would push; that he would never be satisfied with a simple look. His stepbrother’s hands are trailing all over Charles’ body now, exploring every crook and crevice as Erik stands awkwardly beside the bed. He shivers when Sebastian nuzzles the Prince’s neck, placing soft kisses against pale skin as he takes Charles’ flaccid member in hand.
“Shall we see, Erik? If he responds to our touch? If we can make his body yearn for us in sleep, hmm?”
Erik is trapped between desire and conscience, and too shocked to shake himself from his stupor. He can only stand helplessly as Sebastian strokes Charles’ cock and tastes his skin, and wish that it were his own lips and hands on the perfect form.
“You remember what we did to that pretty Spaniard boy, Erik?” Sebastian croons, looking very pleased as the shaft in his hand thickens with each slow tug. “How we each took him on his hands and knees and made him howl with pleasure, before we took him together? How he loved it, feeling so full and so used?”
He does remember, lovely Janos in their bed, begging the brothers to fuck him harder. His mind is quick to supply him with images of Charles in his place, a teasing glint in his eye as he moans for more.
If he makes a decision he isn’t aware of it, his body moving hastily to join the other two on the bed. Sebastian is stripping quickly now out of his own clothes, as Erik sprawls on the other side of Charles, hands reaching for bare skin. The second time is even better than the first, as Charles’ lips seem to open like a blossom at the press of Erik’s tongue. He feels his reasoning and judgement fall away as the kiss continues, a haze of hunger and lust clouding his every thought.
They touch him everywhere, the sleeping prince, hands stroking down his limbs and caressing the swell of his firm buttocks. Sebastian amuses himself by leaving marks all over that flawless canvas, with teeth and fingers digging bruises onto Charles’ thighs. And Erik maps every inch of that diminutive frame with his mouth, Charles’ flesh sweet and luscious as a summer peach.
As always, Sebastian is the first to push for more, lifting one of the Prince’s legs wide as a slides a pillow under his hips. Erik sucks in a deep breath as his stepbrother chuckles, the air exploding from his lungs when Sebastian bends over and places a wet and thorough kiss on the dusky entrance.
“So sweet,” he notes with a sly grin. “Would you like a little taste?”
The last of Erik’s misgivings die with the first lick, as he traces his tongue lightly around Charles’ pretty hole. He takes both legs and throws them over his shoulders, sparing Sebastian no more than a glance as the other man sets to work sucking the Prince’s cock. The two work zealously on Charles’ prone form; Erik greedy with his desires unleashed, lavishing probing kisses and gentle nips, and Sebastian eager to corrupt the virgin flesh.
Erik works Charles open first with long fingers, using spit to ease the way. When Sebastian drags an orgasm from Charles’ unmoving body, Erik reaches to coat his fingers with the splattered seed, and then eagerly slips them back inside.
They fuck him together then, with their fingers, slicking Charles ready with his own come. Erik’s lust is almost overwhelming now, and he pulls away quickly to strip out of his clothes. Sebastian takes the opportunity to dive between Charles’ spread thighs once more, slipping his tongue inside for another taste. Erik watches as his stepbrother inhales the prince with relish, until Sebastian’s face is wet from a mix of spend and saliva.
When Erik climbs back onto the bed, Sebastian withdraws four fingers with a satisfied grunt. He turns to Erik, his face beaming and asks, “Do you want to do the honors?”
By now the sun is setting on the distant horizon, the light changing Charles’ golden skin to a lovely pink flush. He is splayed enticingly across the bed, lips bruised and just barely parted. His hole is slightly swollen from their enthusiastic touch, his whole body a wanton display of lust and debauchery.
“Yes,” he murmurs, and moves between Charles’ thighs. He pushes in, taking care to be gentle, spearing him open inch by agonizing inch. It feels exquisite, a pleasure that’s almost painful, burying his full length in that perfect, tight heat. When he regains some semblance of control again he starts to move, rocking leisurely as he fucks his sleeping prince.
Sebastian smiles at every groan Erik makes; at every slap, slap of his balls against Charles’ flesh. Unwilling to wait for Erik to finish, he straddles Charles’ chest, bracketing the Prince’s head between his knees. Then he proceeds to fuck that pretty red mouth with vigor, shoving his cock enthusiastically down Charles’ throat, while Erik thrusts at the other end, his pace quickening with each frenzied stroke.
He fucks Charles for what feels like ages; a man possessed. He is still thrusting when Sebastian comes, painting his release all over the boy’s face and chest. He keeps pumping in and out as Sebastian smears his seed across Charles’ lips, feeding the Prince droplets from his fingertips. He fucks him and fucks him until his cock feels close to bursting, before he finally slams his hips hard and floods Charles’ insides with his come.
He collapses, and Sebastian laughs, patting him on the back to indicate a job well done. Erik ignores him, taking his time to catch his breath, before attempting to extricate himself from his lover’s body. As he pulls out a trail of white follows, proof of Charles’ defilement by his own hand, leaking languidly onto the bed.
“He’s even prettier now,” his stepbrother gloats, his finger already probing Charles’ entrance. “It’s really too bad that he’s asleep. I should have liked to hear him beg.”
The words should horrify him, should offend his morality and weigh on his conscience. Instead he feels a strange satisfaction when he looks down at Charles' lax face, and wonders how much rest he’ll need before he can fuck him again.
“Yes,” he agrees. “I bet he’s pretty when he begs.”
---
They take turns fucking him over and over, well into the night.
Sebastian enters him with a groan, and hauls Charles’ legs over his shoulders. He plows into the prince with an almost savage hunger, intent on wringing every ounce of pleasure from Charles’ willing body.
Erik brushes his hand gently against a smooth cheek, indulging the hot curl of possessiveness in his gut as his cock disappears between Charles’ obscenely red lips. He imagines fucking a plush mouth that moans shamelessly around his girth, glittering eyes staring up at him with need and warm affection.
They fuck him together, as they did with Janos, body caged between the two siblings. Sebastian slips first inside Charles, the prince laying with his back against his chest, before Erik moves to join his brother. He climbs over them and spreads Charles’ legs, hooking his arms under the prince’s knees. With a sigh he eases himself in, the tight clench around their cocks dragging a ragged moan from both their lips.
He sets the pace for their joining, sinking in slowly as Sebastian bucks his hips. They find a rhythm that works for them both, taking turns plunging in and out of Charles’ hole, swollen and used. The two men draw out their pleasure with slow, leisurely strokes, their repeated thrusts pulling yet another orgasm from their captive prince. Erik swipes the release with his fingers and licks them clean as he moves, relishing the smell and taste of Charles in his mouth.
Finally, they come, an euphoric high as they empty themselves one after the other with pleasured gasps. Erik all but falls on top of Charles, boneless and spent, pressing a kiss to those cherry lips with a satisfied hum.
And then, Charles opens his eyes.
---
Erik is stunned.
The shock is enough to propel Erik out of his blind haze, away from the paralyzing lust and casual disregard that’s enveloped him since he entered the prince’s chambers. He pulls out abruptly and scrambles away, making Charles wince and groan from obvious discomfort.
“You’re awake!” Sebastian exclaims, completely unabashed at the unexpected – and appalling - turn of events. “We broke the curse!”
Charles doesn’t answer, his indecipherable gaze pinning Erik in place. The prince’s eyes are a crystal blue, he notes, with something wise and ancient hidden in its depths. They strip away all of Erik’s defences, seeming to weigh his worth in mere seconds and finding him wanting.
“This is a surprise,” Charles muses, the subtle mockery in his voice a direct contrast to his angelic appearance. “I didn’t expect to be woken again so soon, and by two of you no less. How lucky for me.” He pushes into a sitting position and pulls himself off Sebastian’s cock, seemingly unaware - or unconcerned - with the seed dripping down his thighs. “You have my thanks.”
His stepbrother, used to working his considerable charm on tavern wenches and village folk, grins unabashedly at the Prince and says, “You’re welcome, Your Highness. We are yours to command.”
“Are you?” Charles asks, a wry smile crossing his lips. He leans into Sebastian’s space and grins, before reaching to cup his face with both hands. “Then I believe you owe me a kiss.”
His stepbrother is only too happy to oblige, yanking Charles onto his lap again and pulling him into an open mouthed kiss. The Prince hums happily as the kiss deepens, his own arms wrapping greedily around Sebastian’s neck. The intimate embrace goes on and on and on, neither of the men bothering to take a breath, no apparent end to Charles’ voracious appetite. It continues until Sebastian’s skin begins to stretch taut over his muscles, slowly taking on a tinge of sickly grey. It goes on even as Sebastian fights desperately to pull away, his eyes bulging in horror as the life drains from his body. It goes on until Sebastian falls limp, nothing but a shrivelled husk, a hollow corpse sucked dry by a dark and ravenous hunger.
Charles shoves the empty shell away and licks his lips, red eyes blazing with unfathomable power. He seems to transform, for just a moment before Erik’s horrified eyes, dark wings spreading behind him as he climbs gingerly off the bed. But when he blinks the image is gone, and Charles is human once more, his hand caressing Erik’s naked chest.
“You should have listened to my sister’s warnings, Erik,” Charles scolds, his hands sliding down Erik’s arms to rest on his hips. He can’t move, his limbs frozen in place – from abject fear or a monster’s spell, he can’t rightly say. Charles gives him an amused look and tsks, before reaching to take Erik’s shaft, stroking him gently as he chuckles, “But I find myself in a generous mood tonight. After all, you did bring me…dinner.”
“What--” he starts, before his throat closes tight, too stunned and terrified to say anything more. But Charles seems to know his unvoiced question, and takes him by the hand, leading him back onto the giant bed.
“You want to know, what I’m going to do with you,” Charles teases, as he pushes Erik down, straddling him with a wicked smile. “Why Erik, my Darling, I’m going to make your dreams come true.”