Page 8 of Zel
“Oh? And how many large ones have you fondled?” Zel turned his head to tongue Rudy’s ear. He did so love being touched like this. He loved touching someone else. He loved the heat it roused in his belly. The difficult part was preventing Rudy from discovering the hardness between his legs.
“I have fondled plenty!” Rudy argued. “But my other girls let me touch them in more places.”
Liar, Zel thought. He doubted Rudy had fooled around with anyone else, and if he had, they definitely hadn’t allowed him between their legs.
“I prefer your breasts though. I prefer everything about you, Zel. I love you.”
It was a shame that was true, because Zel loved Rudy as a friend, but not enough to choose him if he ever got to know choice after the coming month. He also couldn’t be sure what Rudy would think once he learned Zel had lied to him all this time. Zel couldn’t be sure what anyone would think, but first, he had to survive his predestined month of betrothal. However that turned out, this would be the last time he and Rudy would ever be together like this.
Zel had wanted so many times to confess to him, his one true friend, but his parents had cautioned him against it. It was too great a risk, they’d say. Perhaps Zel’s vain hopes at rebellion were what first pushed him to pursue Rudy when they were younger. He’d noticed how Rudy’s affectionate glances had become more heated and used his seductive training to encourage it, but always with the caveat, “Just between friends.” Perhaps part of him even wanted to slip up and allow Rudy to discover the truth on his own. But at the last moment, he would always default to behaving, to doing as he had been told.
“Ah, ah.” Zel grabbed Rudy’s hand that was trying to slip up beneath his petticoats and chemise skirt. He often tried to, but a single tut from Zel was always enough to stop him.
Doing this in the storeroom was risky, maybe more so with a celebration in Zel’s honor happening below, but it would have been riskier if they’d met in his bedroom. Zel hadn’t let Rudy up there since they were fourteen. It would have been too easy to give in.
Rudy groaned at being denied, still rutting against Zel’s leg. “You drive me mad. How can you stand not letting me inside you? I know you want it.”
Zel did, but even offering his ass would have been too dangerous when Rudy might reach for a cunt that wasn’t there. “I am a virtuous lady,” Zel said, pushing Rudy away so he could hop down from the table and drop to his knees. “And I intend to stay virtuous until I am wed.” He opened Rudy’s breeches and tore them down to his ankles.
Rudy could hardly complain about lacking access when their nearly daily ritual always ended with him finishing, either by Zel’s mouth or with his hands. It was Zel who had to wait and finish himself off later with a swift wank. He longed to know the feel of another’s hand where he most ached for one, or better yet a mouth. As he sucked Rudy down his throat, he imagined someone else sucking him.
The fantasy had Zel leaking into his chemise and dripping onto the floor. As he lost himself to the hollowing of his cheeks, thoroughly enjoying swallowing Rudy, he hummed to himself, almost unaware he did so.
Rudy held a hand to the back of Zel’s head, massaging the top twists of his braids. It didn’t take long, and once Rudy had spilled down Zel’s throat, he asked, “What was it you were humming, Rapunzel? I didn’t recognize the tune.”
Zel turned from him, reaching up under his layers to tighten the laces of his corset, and then tightened his outer bodice once he was put back together. “Just something I made up to go along with my favorite poem. You know the one.” He sang the start of the same tune, only now he added words.
“In the stillest night,
at dawn’s break,
a voice began to lament;
sweetly and gently,
the night wind
carried to me its sound.”
“You composed that?” Rudy asked, finishing adjusting his spectacles and securing his own clothes—breeches, shirt, and vest. The only other layer for a man was linen trunks. Entirely unfair.
“Surely, someone more talented than I will compose a better tune for it someday, but I am fond of my version.” Zel returned to Rudy to kiss him on the mouth. He would be a good husband to someone someday, but not to Zel. “You called me Rapunzel again.”
“Sorry!” Rudy sputtered. “I forget.”
“Funny how no one has trouble remembering to call you Rudy and notRudolf.”
Rudy sneered at the use of his given name, and Zel pointed at the expression in earnest.
“See! That is how it feels when someone calls me Rapunzel.”
“I know!” Rudy raised his hands in submission. “I am sorry. I called you Rapunzel for nineteen years. Well, I wasn’t really calling you anything until we were three or four, but you getmy meaning. I am trying. Although, why don't you correct your parents when they call you it?”
“I... don't know,” Zel admitted. “I just never manage to. It's silly to hesitate. They weren't even the ones who named me. Are those new spectacles?” Zel hadn’t realized until now, but Rudy’s frames looked more pristine than he remembered, almost golden.
“The old ones broke.” Rudy shrugged, adjusting them again with a quick glance aside.
“Oh? How did—”
