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levihandynasty · 21 days ago

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∘𓈒⚬⋆𓆣🪡Needle Through a Bug🪡𓆣⋆⚬𓈒∘

Ship: Kenny Ackerman x Uri Reiss Word Count: 3970 Prompt Word: Punish

Tw/Cw: Cruelty/Torture of an insect, self harm, Eating disorders, Fatphobic language.

Please note: I am in no way, shape, or form fatphobic.

He should have been there. He should have stood by to support Uri as he gave his life to the jaws of his niece.

“He doesn't want you there! Fuck off!” The fat fuck had pushed him back into the night, his fat fists pounding on Kenny's chest to keep him from once more attempting to make an entry.

“Hey, calm your tits, he told me to-”.

“It doesn't matter! He changed his mind, now head back to whatever part of the sewers you crawled out from, and leave us be!”

His mouth was as fat as his head, and his head as fat as his body. Kenny had always thought him dumb, “Ugly fuck” he would have pushed past him, found a way of entry and been there for Uri as they had agreed, if it hadn't been for that child that now stared daggers into his soul. Was that her? Was that the girl who would soon devour Uri whole? Was she staring out of hate, or perhaps curiosity?

“We had an agreement” Kenny began his next argument. Uri had promised him that he would get to see this ritual of theirs, this transformation of man. It would be beneficial to the both of them, Uri had said. For that way Kenny's thirst would be quenched, if even for just a moment. And Uri, though he hadn't voiced this to Kenny, wouldn't have to feel as scared, if he could look past the beast that was his niece, and catch a glimpse of this man, his companion.

An argument started was never finished, for the girl who's curiosity had brought her out of hiding now looked up to Kenny with eyes so similar to his. Yet deep within those eyes laid fear, a fear Kenny quickly assumed was aimed towards his presence there. A look he never thought Uri could carry, if only he could have looked inside- maybe they weren't so similar after all? “Get your hand off of me”

Finally giving in, Kenny smacked Rod's hand away from himself, staring down at the short man with enough hatred to feed Satan for days. Then he turned, and he didn't look back even once as he walked away from the chapel that would become his.. companions.. final resting place.

Upon arriving home, Kenny found his nest to be much emptier than usual, much colder than he remembered it ever being before. It felt as if the building itself had lost Its spark, its soul.

Kenny moved around a lot, never stayed in the same place for more than a week at the time. Rarely he would return to a residence he had resided in before, it only ever happened if the owner was a new one from the first time he had been there. It was easiest that way, helped him avoid detection when needed, and also eased his mind somewhat. He would have continued this path even if he had lived a normal life, that much he was certain of. However, this also meant that Uri had never set foot in his current residence, so it had no reason to feel the way it did now.

Cold, like how Kuchels's room had felt when he found her for the last time. And much like back then, the tall man silently leant against a dry wood wall, feeling how the rough texture lifted his coat and allowed splinters to dig themselves Into his back. He didn't mind the pain, not now. In fact, a smile crept onto his lips, for in some ways this felt good.

The wall was run-down enough to release splinters large enough to cut through his clothes, draw blood. The owner must be some drunkard who doesn't know how to care for his rooms. The splinters dug into his back as those teeth must have dug into Uri. He wondered what it must have felt like? For those teeth are much larger than any splinter, needle, or knife. Had they offered him something to drink? Eased his pain before tradition forced him to take his final breath? Was he even dead yet? Or was he still chained up down there?

Enough thinking, a drink sounded damn good right now.

If only the drink had been cold, perhaps it would have actually been good. No matter, it went down Kenny's throat in large gulps anyway, a desperate attempt at numbing his mind before the thoughts grew too unkind. Was beer like blood if you imagined it hard enough? Lukewarm beer down a cold man's throat, like a small man's blood down into a large woman's stomach.

He spat it out. The last sip of beer he took was taken at the halfway mark of his bottle, and so the bottle met with the wall before him, flying through stale air before colliding hard and shattering into a million pieces. It's blood soaking the floorboards, its bones cracked and splintered, mangled, as if-

The images of Uri's body, wrecked and torn, was no more than speculation from Kenny's side. If that piglet had just let him in, there would have been no room for this, he would have known exactly how he had looked, perhaps it would have given him peace?

Although Kenny didn't know why he sought peace, he had known of Uri’s eventual fate since they met. He had been prepared for this day since the day Uri explained to him how their world worked. Never had he had a problem with it, in fact he found it fascinating. Power granted down the generation through the death of one's loved ones? It couldn't be anything but fascinating, and Kenny wanted in.

In on the power, not the love.

Love is a weakness.

He had learned that many years ago.

He had been younger then, just returned home with the bastard Kuchel had burdened him with. He never intended to be its father, so that was how he had thought of it for the first week or so, as an it, not a kid, not a human. Though of course that didn't last.

He came home late each and every night, so quickly the runt had learned to feed himself, fight for himself, and bed himself. The second skill always brought a smile to Kenny's face, the kid would be alright. Not that he cared if he lived or died, surely, but the kid would be alright. And it was more than amusing watching something so small cause as much havoc as this one did. Grown men on the ground by the hand of a child that couldn't be anywhere near his puberty yet.

Though he ate like his stomach was endless. The man in charge didn't know much about kids, never had, and never did he learn either. Yet he had taken this as a good sign, he'd grow to be big and strong despite his circumstance, good.

As any Ackerman should.

One of those late nights, Kenny had returned home to an empty house. Weird, usually the kid would make sure Kenny returned before he laid to rest, and on those nights where Kenny didn't return, or returned after the child's fuel had died down, the boy would be sleeping upright, arms crossed over his tiny body, as if waiting for his guardian. Kenny figured perhaps the boy didn't feel completely safe all alone.

This night, Kenny had waited for the boy instead, his tired body raged on as he occupied himself with whatever book the home's owner kept around, or whatever defenseless bug crawled across his table.

With a jar and some toothpicks, Kenny found amusement.

Icy blue eyes stalked their prey. His breath now silent as he leant down to the old raggedy table, watching the rapid movements of six tiny legs, whilst also making sure not to spook it. He had already lost his battle to four of these flying pests; he refused to lose once more. As the being rushed closer, his breath came to a full stop, he had burned himself on that mistake once before.

Bang

The jar came down upon the shit-eater like God's hand is said to strike down upon the unrepentant.

And just like that man would, the fly began buzzing about, slamming its hard body against the glass that contained it. And Kenny watched, feeling the heavy jar buzz against his hand as the weak creature used all its little power to fight a useless battle for freedom. It was admirable perhaps, that it managed even this.

Perhaps he himself was God? To those smaller and weaker, perhaps Kenny the Ripper was God.

He let it tire itself out, enjoying the buzzing more the more desperate it grew. “you feeble thing..” It landed for a moment, only to start its panicked frenzy once more “it won't be long now” as if calmed down by his voice, the bug once more landed, stressfully beginning to clean itself. Watching it, Kenny was almost sure it would rip its own head off. Again and again it repeated this action, and every time those tiny legs ran over it's head, Kenny held his breath in anticipation. How could something that lived in filth and shit care so much about being clean? Something so small and worthless had no reason to care for its appearance.

When you go to meet God, you want to put on your best suit. Perhaps.

It never did rip its head off, and perhaps this was disappointing to Kenny, he was certain he had seen it before, some fly holding its own head in its hands. Had it been hoping to put it back on? Save its life before it was too late and live to see another day? Maybe not, maybe it had already been long dead, frozen in time, overtaken by death as it acted on its desire to be clean. Being clean meant nothing, as long as you managed to keep your health, a bit of filth wouldn't be the end of you. Stupid thing really, dying while doing something as boring as cleaning.

The bug's incessant need for cleanliness was becoming bothersome to the man. If he was to let it go, it would fly over to the nearest shit pile it found, so why did it even bother? Useless.

He didn't let it go, of course. Instead he began rapidly shaking the jar back and forth, sending the small helpless creature crashing from wall to wall much harder than it had before. It tried to fly away, and had taken flight the moment the jar started moving. The choice had been between getting crushed by the walls that contained it, lying broken on the rumbling table as the jar again and again would run it over, rub its innards into the porous table and make it part of it. Like soldiers crushed underneath a titans feet, stomped to jam, and later turned to feed for the soil. Or, of course, taking flight and having Its brains scrambled. Did flies have brains? Probably not, he figured.

Once the creature was dizzy enough, Kenny had quickly lifted the jar and tossed it aside, hearing it come crashing down upon the floor somewhere to his left. The kid would probably sweep It up in the morning, if he comes back that is.

Grabbing old and used toothpicks, the man swiftly turned the being onto its back. Hurriedly those wooden objects had come down upon it, keeping it from moving at all. One pick in each of its wings, keeping it strapped down to the table, its wings outstretched much like the arms of a man chained for slaughter.

A hand laid upon the daggers of wood, keeping them balanced well enough for Kenny to free a hand and use it freely whilst still managing to keep the fly pinned. Watching its strength-less legs kick against the air felt much like reading a good book.

It wouldn't keep those legs, for Kenny’s free hand soon reached down, sharp unkempt nails gripping onto the fragile limbs, and one by one he'd pluck them off.

“Hey” as a last act of violence towards the bug, Kenny pulled the toothpicks into opposing directions, effectively ripping the things wings off. “You're home” standing up, Kenny's eyes met with the kid who had greeted him. “You're ho-” the child too, had spoken.

The bug had become part of the table anyway, under the palm of this man.

“Didya win?” The kid was all bloody, no wonder he had been late. “that yours?” The boy wasn't replying to him. “hm” the child scoffed, limping his way over to his bed.

At least he was home.

The night reached its time out, and early morning crept in before Kenny went to check on the kid. He had waited til he was certain his slow breathing was the one of a sleeping boy, not an angry one, Kenny would have been angry.

He stood above him, watched each breath he took, watched as his small frame lifted and sank under the thin blanket. So easily breakable.

His face was nearly unrecognizable now, swollen and bruised. Blood still stained the child's lips, crusted in his nose. He slept with his mouth open, perhaps it was all clogged up, broken maybe?

Kenny was angry.

An uncertain hand moved to the boy's face, and much too gently pushed the boy's tangled hair to the side. The fly had never known such tenderness, and after Levi, there had only been one other man who had seen it.

Yet for a moment, an array of images flashed through Kenny's mind. Images of him gripping the kid by his head, covering his eyes with his palm as he pushes him back into the flat and torn pillow. Raising his other hand, a knife was brought down to the kid's tender throat, digging into it as easily as a spoon through a tub of animal fat. Wasn't much different, really, not with a sharp enough knife and skilled enough hand.

“Kenny?”

“Kid.”

“What are you doing?”

He held no knife, yet his hand rested on the boy's clammy forehead. Staring, he must have been staring.

“Sleep with one eye open, kid. Doors are weak, don't ever let your guard down.”

With those words the lanky man left the child to his own devices. His hand who so desperately had ached for its friend, for its completion was finally offered the soothing cold texture of a blade held tightly in its palm. Trembling, Kenny had almost cut himself before finding the handle. Glistening in the dull light of the underground, it wasn't long until the icy metal once more was dirtied by filthy blood. “What kinda fuck picks a fight with a child?”

Words were fleeting, and by the time Kenny sat back down to rest, only after making sure the door was tightly locked behind him; he had already forgotten the advice given to Levi.

Levi however, never forgot.

Kenny had been younger then.

The floorboards had drunk his beverage, leaving naught but a stain. For how long had he been sitting here? His legs had grown all numb, all the way to his hips, his back ached like hell, and not only thanks to the splinters still buried deep into his skin, like a needle through a helpless flailing bug.

Hungry, his stomach was screaming out for anything that would or could fill it. Following the most basic instinct he pushed up from the floor, cringing at the tingling piercing feeling that washed over his lower half as he stumbled towards the nearest cupboard.

His limbs all shook as he scanned his belongings, he had an abundance of food, yet he reached for none of it. Screaming at him to grab something, anything, his stomach twisted and turned. The more it rioted, the more he hesitated.

“Nah-” the floor was once more fed with needless filth for bugs to consume. Kenny had barely managed to turn away before ridding himself of what little had resided within the depths of his stomach. May have resided? Never before had vomiting burnt this badly.

Again and again the man had attempted to satisfy his hunger, but each and every time he failed. Vomit was left to rot into his floor, marinating. He should have moved by now, he had stayed around for far too long. He should move on, the smell was making it impossible to eat, and Kenny didn't have the strength to kneel down to clean it up.

It hadn't taken long before he ceased these feeble attempts at feeding. He was starting to find comfort in the pain, the hunger was starting to feel safe and familiar, strengthening as it slowly ate at him, rid him of what he held above all things, his power.

As the world has eaten away his Uri.

He could no longer recognize the man who stared back at him from the reflection of his dusty mirror. Hollow and weak, never before had he looked hollow and weak. His cheeks had sunk, his eyes looked drained and empty, too heavy for their sockets. He could no longer recognize the man before him, a man who had felt the warm touch of love, Uri’s love, and regrettably let it slip out between his fingers.

He didn't look weak, he was weak. He had allowed the world to steal away the only good thing that had ever came to him unprompted. Uri had never a day in his life needed to be kind to Kenny, yet he had chosen to be. Despite how they met, despite Kenny’s crude behaviour, Uri remained smiling, telling him stories from his world, and allowing Kenny to be just who he was. Never once had Uri given him those ugly looks his grandfather had oftentimes tried to hide, never did Uri use Kenny's past against him, nor did he view him as a monster. If anything, the monster was perhaps the saint that had shown the man grace.

No, he was his light, his much needed light. Not a monster, not even one bit. Kenny was indeed the only monster between them, titan or not. “You up there? Uri? Up in the stars shinin’ down at me? Can you see me now, Uri? Look, I'm crying too.”

The hunger felt good, the hunger felt deserved.

Perhaps this way he would meet him again?

The tears? They did nothing but burn.

Pain had become his friend, if the divine refused to punish him, he would take it into his own hands. Now satisfaction was found in the hunger, not in getting rid of it. Boredom was killed alongside the smoothness of his skin. A cold blade helped him forget, an empty stomach made him feel like he was finally able to repent, even if just a little bit. Finally, willing.

Months had passed since Uri's death when a heavy knock upon his door woke Kenny from a dream in which Uri's gentle hands had played with his hair as they rested in a large green field, their skin being kissed by the warm sun. Those all knowing eyes of his were so beautiful in the light. “What!?” Damn bothersome, he should have found another place to stay.

He hauled himself up on his feet, stumbling before he had even lifted his leg to take a step forth. Walking had grown to be a heavy task, one he no longer performed every day. He kept bottles in which he'd empty his bladder, what other reason would he have to get up anyway?

“I'm comin’ !” The knocks were growing more and more insistent. “Calm down!” One of these bottles made themselves an obstacle in his path, Kenny's whole body jolted as he tripped over the glass, watching as it fell over and began pouring its sorry insides back into the world. “Damn-” it smelled worse all out and about.

From the moment his hand pushed down on the handle, hell was preparing to blow up in the old serial killer's face. Or perhaps more so, a gun. A weapon that as soon as the door opened had been turned with its hind towards him and slammed into his face. “Hey!-” before he had even managed to reach for his jaw, soothe the pain, a man had come to tackle Kenny straight to the ground.

Too weak to fight back properly, the boney man began tossing about underneath the man who's knee pressed so painfully down against his spine. The angry scream that erupted from the ripper's lungs vibrated through his chest and into the creaking wood floor. Vibrated like a fly’s buzzing within a glass jar, held tightly by a devil who's grin only grew wider the more it struggled.

Face down in piss and weeks old molded vomit, Kenny came to realize that perhaps this shit-crawler was him all along. Was cleaning perhaps, the bug, no ,Levi’s way of trying to build a distance them between, or worse! Levi’s own attempt at saving his foolish uncle from himself, just as Uri had.

The abuse didn't last. Upon realizing that there was little fight in Kenny, the man had gotten off, laughing at him before pulling him up from the ground and tossing him back onto the couch the man just stood from.

Kenny braced himself for whatever might come next, more abuse, or perhaps they'd gone rogue and would kill him, avenge their fallen comrades. Better yet, maybe they'd gotten the order to.

Legal assassins, the whole bunch.

Little did Kenny know that exactly that was the offer they were to put before him.

A license to kill.

“I don't drink this piss.” the man muttered, making the military personnel before him give him a look of disbelief before removing the cup he had offered the older man. Tea had never been Kenny's thing, the kid had liked it though, he wondered if he still did. Did he find the time?

They kept chatting with him for what felt like hours, but Kenny had little interest in what they had to say. “You look like shit, get back into shape.” Rude, firstly. Secondly, even If he had wanted to, now he'd rather not out of spite. “I don't have the strength.” Kenny's voice rasped painfully out of his throat. “So how about you do me a favour, and kill yourself. I'll watch ."The MP's Didn't find it as amusing as he did, apparently. For as Kenny cracked a smile, the men's frowns only grew deeper.

And then they kept talking. And talking.. Well one of them did anyway, the other instead stood back, arms crossed over his chest. Kenny could have gone to sleep, he wouldn't have felt like he was missing out on anything important. If he closed his eyes again, perhaps he'd find Uri once more. He was feeling drained, as If his life was finally running out.

He didn't want to die, not yet. No, he remembered now, there was something he had to do first.

“Where are you going!? Sit down!” a damn squeaky voiced man, Kenny caught himself wondering if hair ever grew on military cunts’ chests. The tall Ackerman hadn't even realized he had gotten up and started walking.

Yeah, wouldn't they like to know?

No attempt was made to stop him, perhaps thanks to the weapon that finally was gripped confidently in his hand once more. No attempt was made to stop him, perhaps they didn't dare?

He would find him.

And when he did, that squealing piggy would find himself on Kenny's plate. He couldn't die yet, not before Rod.

The world is cruel, perhaps none of this was Rod's fault, but that coward deserved it regardless.

“Come piggy, piggy, Piggy~”

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saccharinecoffee · 1 year ago

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Red carnations on a knife's edge | Kenuri

Pairing ◈ Kenny Ackerman & Uri Reiss

Word count ◈ 7,487

Info & Warnings ◈ Smut, assassination attempt and threats, royalty AU, king!Uri, knight!Kenny, sickly Uri, gnc Uri

Author's notes ◈ This was written for @ackerbondweek 2023 - Day 2 "Liege/Protector".

Read on AO3

Kenny struggles to parse through his insecurities, his loyalty, and his feelings, and ultimately lashes out. Uri is smart, though, and sees right through his beloved knight's inner turmoil.

Kenny Ackerman's shadow followed the King wherever he walked. Donning leather and cotton instead of an intricately decorated metal armour, he stood out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of Uri’s Kingsguard.

The Rogue, they called him in hushed whispers throughout the palace. The Ripper who once terrorised aristocrats in their neighbourhoods, mugging and killing and stripping their fine clothes for a quick buck in the underground. Renowned for his stealth and strength, courtesy of his upbringing and Ackerman genes, he was ruthlessly efficient at disarming whomever came too close to harming the King; a fact Uri dwelled on perhaps too whimsically in the dark of night to be appropriate.

But there was nothing truly appropriate in the way Kenny operated, from his rugged appearance to his severe attitude and rude speech. But Uri himself wasn’t the typical royal, either.

Perhaps, that was what drew the two of them to each other.

They paced and paced down a long hallway, Kenny’s presence staunchly at his side, lagging behind just a fraction to make sure his back wasn’t unprotected. It made a pleasant tingle blossom in Uri’s belly. He grasped his long skirts tighter as the fabric draped at his heels and trailed the ground he walked on. His nape grew colder as his hood remained down and over his shoulders, the ends of his overgrown silver hair tickling his skin as the night drew closer. His head, luckily, was light as could be. Crowns were never appealing to him, and neither were the extravagant embroideries his sisters and brothers wore in velvet and cashmere and expensive furs. A true traitor to his family and status, he was loyal to his ideals.

It must have been close to supper when the last of the populace had finished their inquiries in the throne room and the afternoon had dragged on due to his own insistence in offering them his support. Rod had left him a difficult job when he died, one full of hunger and despair and an uncooperative team of advisers who wanted nothing more than to pursue glory over the comfort and safety of their people.

This naturally meant they resented Uri, and deeply so.

Once in their conference room, they sat at a long, intricate wood table. Uri sat at the very end of it, nearest the door, while his resigned entourage sat across its length, paperwork before them as they prepared for yet another meeting. One that would be entirely unproductive, Uri pessimistically suspected. He usually had unwavering faith in the people around him – which was the reason why Kenny was now his knight and not another number in his castle’s dungeons – but after a couple of years of trying, it was beginning to fizzle into something weak. It was a faith born from both his own gentle soul and years of his brothers and sisters passing down their family’s ideology, even if some, like Rod, had never adhered to them. Irrespective of all of Uri’s efforts amongst his royal advisers, it ultimately led to nothing.

Kenny was a silent strength at his side as the meeting went on, their discussions going down a heated and vile path. They chattered and chattered amongst themselves as though Uri wasn’t even there, speaking ill and ugly things about the people he cared so dearly for and made his stomach churn and skin prickle with growing dread. He considered himself a patient man. He’d been trained for situations such as that. Peace, order and understanding were fundamental at all costs in a King’s rule. But that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t pumping harder, or that his hands didn’t shake.

“Everyone,” he said into the busy room. He tried to keep his voice levelled, but despite his anxiety, the words came out sharp and solid like a knife’s blade. It sliced through the chatter and quieted his court at a moment’s notice. Beside him, he felt Kenny stand straighter.

“If you have a problem with how I run this Kingdom, speak now, or leave at once. Make it swift and resolute, as we have many other more pressing subjects left to take care of before we adjourn for the evening.”

The room looked at him with tense, sheepish faces, some more pinched or bordering on aggravated than others, but Uri stood his ground. He never enjoyed conflict, and he certainly didn’t enjoy removing people from their assigned positions when they had blameless families to feed. But as he slowly came to understand, it was a necessary evil he ought to adopt.

“Silence? Really?” He stood up, staring down every one of his advisors with piercing violet eyes. “If I’m not mistaken, not two minutes prior you were speaking ill of our new allies. I thought I made myself clear when we would not highlight our differences, but instead our strengths. What makes you think it’s appropriate to speak disparagingly about the Ackerman Clan in the presence of a member?”

Suddenly, one of his men stood up, so fast his chair fell over. His fist collided with the table with a loud smack and his voice cracked as he yelled.

“They’re animals, Your Grace! They’re filthy, greedy animals and you let them roam free!! You must open your eyes and cease this madness!”

Kenny took a step forward, hand defensively over his sword. Uri pulled his arm out to stop him. When his palm touched his chest, he balled a fist into his cloak.

“You will not speak that way about Kenny Ackerman!” He said firmly. “As I said, you’re invited to leave if you disapprove of how I do things around here. I’m sure many others would be happy to fill in this role in your permanent absence!”

The councilman threw his paperwork across the table, blending with his colleagues’ own work and making a right mess of things.

“You need to wake up! You aren’t honouring your dear brother’s crown! You dress like the princesses’ maids and hand out our well-earnt money to the parasites and criminals of this Kingdom! What kind of King does that?!”

“The way we see it,” another one of his advisors said gravely, as he stood up, “you’re simply not fit to run our kingdom.”

A third stood up in a flash with a roar, unsheathing his dagger and leaping over the table to attack Uri. He wasn’t the only one, as several others stood up with haste and raised their weapons as they charged for their King.

He felt as though time slowed down as his heart leapt into his mouth. Beating, beating, so hard it hurt his shrinking lungs. They all got up with deadly intent, dark fire in their eyes as they let their rage consume them whole.

And then he was shoved back into his chair with such strength it slid several feet backwards and knocked what little air he’d taken in right out of him.

Kenny moved so fast his eyes could barely keep up. He grabbed the attacker’s sword-wielding fist and used the momentum to shove him with a force that knocked the man into a bookshelf. The next assailant was punched in the gut while his hand got crushed under the strength of Kenny’s hard. The man wailed on the ground as he held his crooked fingers as Kenny simply moved onto the next, then the next, then the next. Fluid like water, movements blurring from the speed.

None got close to Uri, his technique too precise, his movements too efficient, his superhuman strength too overpowering.

Uri shook in his chair as he watched the events unfold, hands trembling in his lap as his wide eyes darted from one person to the next in fear of being reached and hurt.

He barely registered as his guards stormed into the room and began arresting his assailants as per Kenny’s barked out commands. He could only hear his own hard breathing, a hand coming up his modest gown’s lacing and pressing over his hammering heart. In the distance, Kenny turned toward him, his expressions initially pleased, satisfied with a job well done, but it quickly turned to panic. He ran over to Uri at a hurried pace, shoving the now battle-worn room’s furniture out of the way with unnecessary force.

As he came within arm’s reach, Uri’s world faded to black.

His centre of gravity shifted, but he never fell. In fact, he felt warm and weightless for a long time, cradled by strong arms and hushed words until his back hit something soft and fluffy. He subconsciously reached for the warmth that was threatening to leave and mumbled a plea under his breath. He heard people speaking, though they seemed too far away to perceive their words. But one had an edge to it that made him feel a spark blossom in the pit of his stomach. It was gravelly and irritated, matching a rough but warm hand that slipped over his shoulder.

Slowly, he stirred.

His eyes blinked away the darkness and was greeted by his knight’s concerned visage staring back at him. It was short lived, the hand on his shoulder quickly withdrawn and the look on Kenny’s face hardening. Suppressing his disappointment, he gazed at where Dr. Jaeger seemed to be, at his feet. He held his folded legs up the way he’d taught Uri’s handmaidens to do whenever he felt dizzy and fainted. It was an unfortunately all too frequent event, but he was always taken care of, and always grateful for their service.

“Are you back with us, Your Grace?” The doctor said with a patient smile. Above him, Kenny clicked his tongue.

“What the hell is your problem, passing out like that?” He grumbled. “What kind of King keels over when someone flashes their sword at them?”

“One whose health simply needed a little extra help,” Jaeger explained with a lighthearted chuckle. “Right, Your Grace?”

Uri simply looked up into Kenny’s grey-blue eyes, his body relaxing further into his furs. There was a crinkling at the edges of Kenny’s eyes that made him smile up at his knight.

So rough around the edges. So crass with his words.

His heart though… It was quite different.

“Thank you, Kenny.”

He watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, lips pressed thin as his brows furrowed. With a petulant scoff, he looked away.

“Come on, don’t be such a grouch,” Uri scolded. Slowly, he began sitting up, using his knight’s thigh as leverage, who only mumbled further complaints under his breath.

Jaeger took a couple of notes, no doubt adding the day’s incident to his medical records, and when he was done, he inspected his heartbeat, his blood pressure, and took note of his findings just the same.

“I advise you to take the rest of the day off and relax as much as possible,” he said with more weight. “Keep someone you trust with you at all times as well, just to be sure. Make sure you eat plenty and don’t move much, lest you have another fainting spell before the day is through.”

“Is there anything I should do in particular?” He asked nervously. He wasn’t used to being stationary, especially since being crowned. “Just relax?”

“Yes, I believe so. If you feel like you’ll black out again, just put your head between your knees, or have someone lift your legs as I’ve taught you.” He packed his instruments and notebook in his bag and nodded at the both of them. “When you’re well rested, you should come over to my office to run some blood work so we can see if it’s just your blood pressure acting up as usual, or something more serious.”

“I promise to do as you say. Worry not.”

Jaeger gave him a bitter smile.

“I’ll always worry, Your Grace. It’s my job after all.”

Uri felt a sting of guilt. Grisha Jaeger was a truly fantastic doctor, who had cared more genuinely for him than any other royal doctor had. Much like Kenny, Jaeger’s daughter was an Ackerman herself, a lineage that was much contested in Uri’s Kingdom.Though once allies to the Fritz and Reiss families, they were deemed monstrous for their physical abilities and persecuted by the nobles. Centuries later, Uri came to power, tore that decree and burnt it, bringing the Ackermans out of the shadows and back into public life. He was surprised to find the man had kept his adopted daughter a secret out of fear, having presented his son Eren as his only offspring.

For this reason Uri had come to realise the gratitude of a loving father whenever Jaeger worried over his own fickle health, with sorrowful eyes and tight smiles. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him, but his duty as a ruler would sometimes get in the way. Duty often called, and he always found that duty hard to ignore.

The doctor bid his goodbye, reenforcing his instructions one last time to be sure Uri understood their importance, and he emphasised he’d comply.

Once he closed the door behind him, Kenny stood up and paced the room with a resigned look on his face.

“Kenny?” Uri called. He had no response. “Kenny–”

“You almost died!” He yelled. His eyes were wide and livid. “All because you just had to White Knight my sorry ass!”

Uri sat a little straighter on his comforter.

He’d met Kenny shortly after the Ackerman decree was burnt. One thoroughly stabbed arm and an apology later, Kenny joined his cause as his trusted protector. Kenny didn’t pretend to enjoy it much, turning his nose at Uri’s whims and keeping mostly quiet except to make superficial complaints. But Uri found it amusing, even if the rejection stung.

Now, after saving him from danger, after Uri defended him, he seemed perplexed beyond his imagination.

“I am the King,” he said with conviction, despite his dizzy head. “I made the decision of my own volition and you are part of my people. It is my duty to defend your rights when you’ve been discriminated against and slaughtered by my ancestors.” His voice began to waver. “It’s the very least I can do with the power I wield. I know it’s still not enough, but can’t you see the effort I’m putting in day and night?!”

Kenny only seemed angrier by his words, and Uri felt his heart clench.

“That’s not the issue, Uri!” He yelled. “My problem is with your stupidity! You refuse to see the rot in the people you’ve surrounded yourself with and you paint a nice big bullseye on your back by going overboard your saviour complex–”

“Saviour complex?!” Uri interjected incredulously.

“–and then you put a filthy animal like me in charge of following you around like a dog, almost like bait, like you’re begging for someone you reach out and snap your neck for treason.”

Uri balled his fists into his comforter, slowly stood up and walked closer to Kenny. His steely eyes softened with worry just enough for Uri to catch, and he pressed his palm against his heart.

“Just because you were told you’re worthless by the likes of my family and accolades that does not mean it’s true. You can live a life of dignity and I certainly can and will do everything in my power to revert the damage I’ve done.”

“You didn’t do shit, Uri!” He grabbed him by the upper arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders. “I’ve lived all my fucking life in the underground and I could very well keep doing it if I pleased.” He shook him gently, nails digging into his skin. It didn’t hurt, though. Kenny was precise in every inch of strength he gave away, and was never if not careful with him.

“But you don’t have to!”

“Do you doubt my skills? You are aware of what I did before you made me your pet, right, Your Highness?”

“Of course I don’t doubt– You’re not my pet, Kenny!

He came impossibly closer, and he felt his balance falter. If Kenny pushed any further, he'd fall.

But he trusted him. How could he not?

“Oh, but I am.” His voice was dark, his lips stretched in a pained grimace. Uri could feel his cheeks blistering as dark red tracks bloomed on his skin. Kenny’s expression faltered. “Wha–”

Before he could continue, Uri’s eyelids fluttered as his knees grew weak. He stumbled, head floating and vision spotted black, but Kenny quickly wrapped his arms around him.

“Shit.”

Slowly, carefully, he walked Uri back onto his bed, laying his back out and bringing his legs – skirts and all – over the comforter. Blindly, Uri bent his knees, attempting to bring his legs to his chest to follow Jaeger’s instructions, but Kenny seemed to quickly catch onto his actions, sitting on the edge of the bed himself and hesitantly reaching for his legs, smooth skin peaking through his skirts as the fabric bunched around Uri’s thighs and waist.

“Can I…?”

“Yes, please,” he said softly. “‘m too weak to keep them up on my own.”

Kenny nodded and wrapped his arm around his knees, where they bent. He shifted himself up on the bed, sitting beside his torso and bringing his legs along with his arm. Uri felt his cheeks heat up, not from his blossoming marks, but from something else too intimate that stirred low in his belly. Kenny himself seemed to have been avoiding his eyes, looking between the pale legs in his leather-clad arms and the modest cream colour of his gown.

Then, he looked up, silver eyes peering through dark lashes.

“It happens every time those damn demon trails show up on your face.”

“Demon trails…? Oh! You mean my Ymir's Blessings?”

“Sure, if that's what you call 'em.”

“Is that how Ackermans refer to our marks?” Uri contemplated his words with a sadness building in his chest. “Of course you would... How naive of me.”

Kenny licked his lips slowly, gauging Uri pensively. When he spoke up, his voice was calm and quiet, contrasting greatly with his earlier outburst.

“When my mother told me about you people – the Eldians chosen by their Gods, – she always warned me about the marks.” He gestured to his own face, drawing invisible lines over the apples of his cheeks absentmindedly. “Said they’d show up when they get real mad, like if they’re going in for an attack. That’s how we know we gotta run. She saw it in person. Angry red lines like the ones you have. Like the meat under the skin is exposed.”

Kenny lowered his hand from his face, reaching over Uri and tracing a line down his King’s cheek. His touch was hesitant and light, but with the skin changed and exposed, it felt more sensitive. Uri willed himself not to jump from the sensation, but Kenny smirked, noticing the way his body tense.

“Is that how you see me, Kenny?” Uri breathed.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Kenny scoffed. Like the thought of Uri being a heartless hunter was beyond imagination. “You could never.”

“I'm glad you don't think poorly of me, despite my shortcomings.”

“Shortcomings?”

Uri felt sheepish and looked away from Kenny, smiling sadly.

“I'm far from an exemplary King, Kenny. You’ve seen it already. I let horrible men remain in my court in hopes they'd warm up to my ideals and work with me. It took me two years to be able to cease all persecution against your Clan, and even then, I don't know where to begin with reducing the social animosity and division now that you're no longer in hiding.” His eyes stung with unshed tears. “I'm weak, Kenny. You’re right in saying I'm too soft. I have to keep trying, but nobody listens, I'm–”

“Oi, oi, stop running your mouth like that for a minute and use your fucking head.” He clicked his tongue in aggravation. “This is why you piss me the fuck off so much. If it weren't for you I'd be dead in a fucking ditch like the filth I am! Don’t you see how much of an idiot you are for letting me even sit with you alone in your own bedchamber? I could slice your fucking throat and end your miserable bloodline right now if I wanted, but you trust me because you're just. That. Good.” His eyes grew wide and sinister. “This goodness makes you the best King this Kingdom could hope for, but it will kill you one day, if you don't sharpen up. You've tasted your second assassination attempt today because you were too good to take the trash out from your court. Who says it won't be the last?”

“Kenny... That won't happen because I have you.”

Kenny stilled, his wide eyes glimmering with something Uri couldn’t understand as his brows knit in confusion.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” He asked incredulously.

Uri lifted a hand and cupped his cheek affectionately, a small, private smile on his lips.

“I trust my Kingsguard's rogue.”

There was a lot left unsaid, words he wanted to speak into existence that died on his tongue in shame. But Kenny wasn’t an unintelligent man by any means – on the contrary.

He breathed out through his teeth, scowling as though Uri’s confession offended his palate, and he could swear the silver in his eyes had turned black.

Uri suddenly felt Kenny's arm tighten its grip around his legs, and in the blink of an eye, he was on him with a knife pressed to his throat. The arm around Uri’s legs came up and bent his back enough that his skirts fell further and exposed his skin, all because Kenny reached threateningly closer to Uri. He was a palm's distance from his face, hovering over him and grinning wickedly. Uri felt like there was a sort of desperation in it, something forced and deranged in the way his brows twitched, and his smile almost morphed into a grimace if Uri squinted.

“You trust me, you say,” he said darkly, slowly, and promising to draw blood. “How can you be so stupid in the face of a murderer? Do you have any idea what I could do to you before anyone even found out?”

Uri felt his cheeks blister. He could feel his fading marks blooming stronger and redder on his face as he felt the steel against his skin. But he remained still, impassive. He was lashing out, Uri was certain. He had to talk him down with carefully chosen words.

“I imagine you could do plenty,” he said, playing along.

“I could. I could slice you in the right place and have you bleed out before I finish re-fastening my cloak. But if I wanted to draw it out I could also toss your gown up and use your little body like the maiden you dress as.” His fingers dug into his thigh, making him take a sharp intake of air. “Your stinkin’ trust could have you done right here and now.”

His skin prickled, gooseflesh rippling over his exposed skin. It wasn’t just from the adrenaline, but the intimate touch Kenny had on his body. And he didn’t complain, he couldn’t; not from the looming fear, but because he animalistically craved more. Perhaps Kenny was right and he was a fool. A suicidal fool who lost all sense when confronted with mortal danger, like a moth drawn to a light.

Uri settled his breath before speaking. When he did, his voice was unwavering.

“But you won't.” Kenny's nostrils flared. Uri pressed his lips together, brows furrowed in concentration. He insisted, “you won't.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I just know.”

“What proof do you have?”

Uri looked at him quizzically. The hand on his thigh had softened its grip, his grimace had relaxed into a frown that was almost akin to a pout. He couldn’t help the bubbling laugh that escaped his throat.

What a stubborn man he was.

“What's so fucking funny?” He lazily grazed his knife up his neck, sending a shiver down Uri's spine.

“Kenny, do you take me for a blind man? A deaf one, even?” He asked softly around a smile. “You save me from imminent danger and carry me to my room. You argue with me over the goodness you see in my heart as you hold my legs, when I'm too weak to do so myself. How do you expect me to believe this nonsense you speak of?”

Kenny exhaled sharply through his teeth. Uri's hand trailed up Kenny's chest, neck and jaw. He nimbly tucked a lock of stark black hair behind his ear, smiling up at him, unworried. Because he was just that – unworried.

Kenny suddenly tossed his knife to the side without looking, slicing through a tapestry that hung on the wall, dead centre. Uri followed his extended arm and admired his shot with wide, awe-filled eyes.

“You're gonna be the death of me.”

Uri barely registered as Kenny’s firm hand held his chin and guided him to face his knight once more, meeting him in a searing kiss. His violet eyes widened in surprise, hands hovering blindly before the warmth of it washed over him, making him moan and latch onto Kenny’s wide shoulders. He was demanding and voracious, licking into his mouth, squeezing his thigh and trailing his hand up and down his neck and shoulders possessively. There was an air of danger in it that made him whine into their kisses with abandon, enjoying every sensation Kenny had to offer and only craving more.

“You sound so good like that,” Kenny said, voice heavy with arousal.

Uri only sighed, feeling a calloused hand trailing curiously up his naked thigh. His other one remained on his face, a thumb brushing over his sensitive cheeks and making him shiver.

“The marks aren’t fading,” he said, licking his lips. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Uri squirmed as Kenny’s hand grabbed his upper thigh harder, so close to where it met his behind it was maddening.

“Ymir’s Blessings present when certain bloodlines of Eldians experience strong emotions, like anger or heartbreak, or when their bodies experience something intense.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Like a knife in the arm… Or arousal.”

Kenny grinned with mischievous eyes.

“Your Highness,” he said sarcastically. “If you’d told me you liked my knife against your throat so much, I wouldn’t have tossed it.”

“I– I didn’t–”

“Maybe next time?” He teased, reaching down to nibble on Uri’s neck, teeth raking his skin and tongue prodding it for a taste.

“K-Kenny, I was just surprised, is all,” he sighed, his body clinging to his knight as though he were a lifeline, as though he needed his body’s touch to breathe.

Kenny hummed as he tasted his skin further down to his collarbone, using the hand once on his waist to undo the lacing at the front.

“You make a mess of my head, you know that?” His hands were hurried and rough, possessive and greedy. Uri felt his heart leaping from the anticipation as he felt his fingers run down his sternum as his gown undid itself. He hoped to be touched further, grabbed by Kenny’s large hands and completely taken apart, and the sooner the better.

“How so?” He breathed, voice wearing thin.

“Fuck.” He sat back up and toed his boots off before crawling back onto the bed with haste and parting Uri’s legs. “You’re a living saint and walk around prettier than any woman I’ve ever met. You know how hard it is to keep myself from tarnishing that innocent look on your face you wear all the time?”

His hands ran up his calves and knees as he watched the way his skirts fell and pooled around his upper thighs and stomach, revealing the full extent of his legs. He gave Uri a look, a request for permission, and he nodded.

“I find it hard to believe there aren’t any women more fetching than I am,” he managed to speak despite the nervous lump in his throat. Kenny’s touch made its way further and further up his thighs, nails dragging along teasingly, a little mean, and making him shiver. “Perhaps the problem is that you just happen to not like women at all.”

Kenny chuckled, grabbing his flesh tight between his fingers, digging his nails into it more than he had to. The sting made Uri gasp.

“Yeah, guess that checks out.”

He shifted the rest of his skirts up, giving him access as he sat closer between his legs. Uri flushed as he felt fresh leather coming into contact with his warm, naked legs.

“You’re also wearing a shift,” he mumbled. “Just like a maiden.”

Uri nodded, licking his lips.

“It’s comfortable,” he said, feeling very small under Kenny’s large body and focused gaze.

“I imagine,” he scoffed. “And it means easier access for me, so I ain’t complaining.”

Slowly, curiously, his hands dipped under his small clothes, and with every inch, his intimacy was further exposed. He closed his eyes self-consciously as he felt his fingers trail beside his pelvis and over his hips, the cool evening air touching the heated skin of his arousal.

“Look at me,” he said sternly. Uri’s eyes shot open as Kenny leaned down. “Can I touch you, Your Highness?”

Yes, he wanted to say. God, please, yes.

“You know it’s Your Grace,” he said instead.

Kenny’s lips quirked up in a playful grin. If Uri were anyone else, he’d believe it was a menacing omen. But he knew Kenny well. The mirth dancing around his eyes as he looked down at him was clear as day to him.

“My Lord and Lady, you’re awfully cheeky for someone with his legs spread and his pretty cock out.” The way Uri’s cheeks blistered was nearly painful as he blushed deeper. “What, cat got your tongue?”

Kenny was right above him, a hair’s width away from kissing his lips, words spoken conspiratorially. Between them, they barely touched. It wasn’t a mercy; Kenny was kind to him, but he knew very well how much Uri craved his touch. It was his way of punishing his insolence, he was sure. And Uri would have found the role reversal amusing if he wasn’t leaking and trembling from need.

“Please,” he said, leaning up to touch him. His arms wrapped around his torso and lips chased Kenny’s own, and Kenny relented, kissing him back and allowing his body to weigh down on Uri’s.

Uri moaned against Kenny’s lips as he felt the stiff front of his trousers rut onto his naked arousal. He bucked his hips into him, their bodies moving in waves as Kenny licked into his mouth. He was lascivious in how he kissed him, be it the way his tongue swirled in his mouth or the way his hands and hips conducted his body and ignited the fire in his blood. Those hands cradled his jaw, ran in circles over his undressed chest and pinched his nipples. They traced over his sensitive thighs and grabbed his behind with lust. He spun in circles as spit dribbled down his chin between their lips and tongues, his voice echoing without restraints throughout his royal bedroom.

“You’re a dream,” Kenny said, low and gravelly as his half-lidded eyes took him in hungrily. He rutted down on Uri’s painfully hard cock and watched with sadistic pleasure as he winced and shuddered in his arms. “The King of Paradis lost in the throws of passion.” He licked a stripe up his neck and sucked on his pulse. “The King who denies marriage proposals every day, but lets an assassin like me take him like my own.”

“You’re my knight, Kenny.” Uri’s voice was rough from use and weak, his breathing harsh from strain.

“Eh,” he shrugged. He was grinning as he put some distance between the two. Self-satisfied and pink across his cheeks and nose. “Same difference, really.”

Without breaking eye contact he unclasped his belt

“Tell me, my King,” he said as he stroked himself. “Have you ever done this?”

Uri shook his head, his violet eyes jumping from the heavy cock in Kenny’s hand and the heavy look in his eyes.

Kenny hummed, looking Uri up and down as well and biting his lip.

“You have oil anywhere in here?”

Uri reached for his nightstand wordlessly and fished out a glass vial from one of the drawers. Kenny’s eyebrows shot up.

“I… I’ve only ever experienced it alone,” he said in lieu of an explanation.

Kenny swiped it from Uri’s hands in a flash and made his way down his body like a starving man.

“You’re gonna have to show me how you do it when I’m not here, one of these days…” He kissed over Uri’s hips, between his inner thighs, where it connected to his pelvis, and he could swear he could feel his breath over his arousal.

“It’s nothing special, I’m afraid,” he said, hand coming up to his mouth as his impatience threatened to spill more sounds of desperation from his lips. “It’s nothing like how you make me feel.”

Kenny clicked his tongue.

“When you say things like that, it makes it real hard to control myself, you know that?”

And before Uri could reply, Kenny’s hot mouth swallowed him whole.

He gasped, hands latching onto the bed sheets as his hips unconsciously bucked further into his throat. A long, drawn-out moan escaped his lips as Kenny bobbed his head up and down his shaft, while long fingers slipped between his cheeks below. Uri let himself be carried away by Kenny’s ministrations, feeling those fingers become slick with saliva as they rubbed against his entrance. When he thrust them in, he felt no pain and he welcomed the strange intrusion. Wiggling his hips around the digits, Uri sighed and asked for more. Kenny obliged and the stretch was, once again, very welcome. His own fingers weren’t very big, his entire figure dainty and delicate from head to toe, so the way Kenny stretched his hole beyond his usual limits, and at a better angle too, was a wonderful new experience. He felt fuller and the way the pads of his fingers rubbed at his inner walls was electrifying. He shivered, cried out with every suck at his tip and every thrust within his body, the pressure in his lower belly building as sparks lit up across his gooseflesh riddled skin.

“Please,” he sobbed. “Kenny, I’m gonna–”

“No you ain’t,” he ordered, his fingers digging into his flesh in a way that made his jaw drop. His body stilled instantly despite the pleasure, eager to obey the dark edge in his knight’s voice above all else. “You’re cumming with my dick in you. No sooner. No later.”

Uri shivered, but nodded, breathing steadily through his nose as he tried to keep his body reigned under control. That was, until Kenny decided to praise him.

“Good boy,” he said, licking the tip of his cock, voice rough from effort.

Uri moaned, a pleasant spike of pleasure running down his spine as he rutted down into his mouth and fingers.

“S-Sorry,” he apologised breathlessly.

Kenny removed himself from him, laughing breathlessly and shaking his head.

“You like it when I threaten you, you like it when I praise you…” He shoved both his trousers and breeches lower, down to his mid-thigh. Uri’s mouth watered as he watched his cock bob between his legs and Kenny did the same with a lazy smile. He opened the vial of oil and spilled its contents over his erection, lathering it over himself and giving him a slow once-over. “Sounds to me like I scored an easy audience.”

“I am not easy!” Uri argued, latching onto his skirts in embarrassment, knees bending to give his knight better access to his hips.

Kenny grinned as he lined himself up, eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine joy.

“Now ain’t that the truth, Your Grace.”

He thrust in, the tip of his cock catching his rim and sinked into him easily. It was a bit of a stretch, thicker than Kenny’s fingers and Uri’s own, but his body accommodated Kenny as though he belonged inside of him. He moaned something needy as he filled him up, inch by inch until his hips connected with his bottom. Once he did so, he reached for Uri’s legs and brought them over his shoulders, leaning further down and bending him in half in the process.

“Kenny,” Uri sighed, the position making Kenny’s cock press further into his sensitive inner walls.

“That okay?”

“Of course.”

He slowly thrust out, then back in, feeling for discomfort as Uri gazed up at Kenny’s furrowed concentration. His silver eyes locked with his own as he began to pick up the pace and the sound of skin slapping into skin filled Uri’s ears. Kenny’s cock rubbed against his sensitive nerves and it was overpowering, making him moan and tremble and latch onto his wide shoulders for support. And Kenny didn’t relent, leaning down to capture his lips with his own. He wasn’t gentle there, biting and sucking and drawing pitiful, unbecoming sounds from his King.

“You can go harder,” he pleaded between kisses. He was close again, all too fast, but desperate enough not to feel embarrassed at his depleted stamina.

“You’re not supposed to exert yourself.” His voice rumbled in his chest as he leaned down to suck open mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. “The doctor said so himself.”

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?” Uri huffed in disbelief, groaning as the knight sunk his teeth into his feverish skin.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” He licked the sore flesh, making Uri shiver.

Kenny had a bad habit of assuming the worst of himself. He picked the most interesting parts of himself and turned them into flaws, big red warning signs to ward people like Uri off so he could remain in the shadows, on his own. It was difficult for him to show Kenny how wrong he was about himself, how every one of those weaknesses were strengths he should be proud of.

He reached for his face, cradling it and running his thumbs over the apples of his cheeks.

“Haven’t I told you already?” He said with as much weight and sincerity as he could. “I trust you.”

Kenny stopped moving as he looked for something in Uri’s eyes. Perhaps it was confirmation that his words were true. Or maybe his concerns lingered, despite his faith and eagerness.

“Alright,” he finally said. “But don’t come complanin’ when your ass hurts tomorrow.”

Uri wanted to protest, but found himself unable to.

Kenny grabbed onto his waist and pistoned his hips into him as he pulled Uri in. He was fast and precise with his angle, and his thrusts smacked into his behind with an intensity unmatched. It was overwhelming. His eyes fluttered half-closed as he struggled to focus on anything but the red hot pleasure building increasingly fast with every one of Kenny’s forceful movements. Uri mewled pleas he could barely remember thinking of, voice too weak to form full words.

“How’s that for you, Your Grace?” Kenny said cockily. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” Uri moaned without a second thought, hips stuttering against the harsh punishment he put him through as pleasure built and built and threatened to spill. Every second, Kenny’s body was pushing into his, rubbing against his walls, pressing into sensitive nerves, pounding so deep he could feel it rut against his insides. Kenny wasn’t a stupid man, he knew there was a limit to his strength before he did any real damage, but he must have had extensive experience if he knew the precise point as to approach the brink of danger without ever crossing it. And Uri, truthfully, was more than glad for it, if it meant he could always feel that ecstasy when Kenny was with him.

His spine bent like a bowstring as he came, pleasure racking his body and making him shiver violently with every subsequent thrust.

“Don’t stop,” he moaned as he felt Kenny’s hips faltering. “Don’t stop, don’t stop–”

“So fucking tight,” he growled, pounding into him as he chased his own climax. His nails dug into his hips, his ass getting further bruised with every hard smack of his hips and thighs. Uri whined and sobbed as Kenny’s cock rubbed his skin raw, making his body jolt and twitch from oversensitivity.

And as soon as his hips began to lose their steady rhythm, Kenny reached between the two of them to wrap a hand around Uri’s leaking cock.

He widened his eyes in surprise as he gasped. The brand new sensation was overpowering in its own right, untouched and spent at once and finally having its aroused, scorching skin satiated. He spilled again, barely registering his own orgasm as it struck him a second time as he squeezed harder around Kenny’s cock. His thrusts then stilled, growling as he filled him up with his seed.

It was filthy, but Uri felt anything but. How could he feel as though Kenny had dirtied him, when he’d never felt more loved? He held onto his shoulders and brought him down, feeling the warmth of his body engulfing his own as they kissed again. Slowly, he slipped out of Uri, allowing him to lay fully on top of him and wrapping his arms around his middle into a tight hug. Lips locked with lips and tongues tasted each other eagerly, fingertips playing with soft hair and legs tangling together. Once satisfied, they laid next to each other, still clingy, still lost in each other. Silently conversing the only way emotion could.

“I was a coward,” Uri eventually broke the silence. They played with each other's hands, fingers trailing over skin playfully and interlacing together.

Kenny stared at him, pensive.

“I had people in my council unworthy of their positions, people who wished harm on my subjects. I shouldn’t have waited this long to act on my beliefs. I kept making excuse after excuse, and all that led was a slow progress in my will of action and another attempt on my life.”

“Is this your way of sayin’ I was right?”

Uri chuckled.

“In a way, but you’re still too extreme.”

“Where I’m from any bit of good faith will get you killed.”

Uri grinned.

“Good thing you’re no longer in the underground.”

Kenny smiled wryly, but good naturedly.

“You’re right. Now at least I’m paid to suspect others.”

Uri swatted his peck with the back of his hand, rolling his eyes.

“You understand where I’m getting at.”

Kenny grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer, hand holding the small of his back and bringing their bodies flushed together. His smile grew cocky, with a tired edge to it that was nothing if not charming and heartwarming.

“Aye, I do. And I have something to say as well.”

He looked up at him quizzically.

“You aren’t the only coward here. I shouldn’t have tried to hurt you just because I couldn’t sort myself out.”

Uri pressed his lips together in concern.

“It must have been hard, carrying all that on your own.” Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes widening minutely. “I know things were bad in the underground, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen to either of us now. You don’t have to make a show of it, to prove a point. ”

Kenny shook his head to hide the blush creeping up his neck.

“You almost got yourself killed, of course I’m gonna freak the fuck out. It wasn’t right, but you fucked up, too.”

Uri just smiled.

“Yes, I still have a lot to learn,” he said simply. “Isn’t that what makes us human?”

Kenny’s disgruntled expression relaxed into something more serene. The blue in his grey eyes shone against the light of his lanterns as he leaned in to kiss his lips. It was chaste and gentle, both things that Kenny wasn’t. The dichotomy pleased Uri’s romanticism.

“Aye, Your Grace,” he said when they parted, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’ll do my worst for the all-too benevolent King of Paradis.”

Uri scoffed, puffing his cheeks and pretending they weren’t growing pink by the second.

“Why do you keep addressing me that way?” He looked up through his lashes, catching the mirth in Kenny’s eyes. “You’re just making fun of me.”

“I am,” he chuckled.

Uri looked away, trying and failing not to smile.

“So you’ll keep disregarding my rank everywhere except in bed, is that it?”

He kissed his cheek, running his calloused fingertips over his hairless jawline and into his silver locks.

“Absolutely, my liege.”

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