Royal Indiscretion, chapter 39 (Patreon)

Edited after posting.  I decided to have a sex scene here instead of the beginning of the next chapter, so I edited the ending.

-----------------------------------------  

Once Hagan had left, Yves stared at the inside of the hotel room. His eyes could not focus well enough to read the official notices posted there, but he continued to stare until Doug’s hand guided him to the couch.

“The man is still an ass,” Doug said, “but he’s less of an ass than most people in your life, and I might be including myself in that number because I really want to punch that guy. I don’t know why, but I want to hit him even more now that I know he was on your side the whole time and still didn’t stand up for you.”

Yves caught Doug’s hand. “Don’t.”

Doug sighed before sliding an arm around Yves. “So how do you want to handle this?”

Startled, Yves looked over. “Me? I have no idea. I don't know what to do about my father.” Yves never had. Now that he understood how King Joachim had forced his father to take him in, Yves understood the anger and resentment better, but he still couldn’t predict his father. He wanted to believe that the Duke would never pose a physical threat, but Hagan’s visit did suggest otherwise.

After a long silence, Doug asked, “Do you want to confront him or run like hell?”

Yves blew out a long breath as he tried to get his mind to engage with this ugly reality. “Which one would you do if this were your father?”

“Would you tell me what to do if my father came up for parole?” Doug asked. “Eventually he will. So, are you going to tell me whether I should speak in his favor or speak against him or just in avoid the entire hearing?”

“Of course, I wouldn't.” Yves immediately said. He couldn’t imagine how he would handle that sort of conflict, especially since it would be played out in such a public forum. At least Yves could maintain some semblance of privacy around his own father’s murder potential for murder.

Doug’s voice grew soft. “And I can't tell you how to handle your father. I have my fucked up family, and you have yours. If you tell me how you want to handle this, I will back you to the ends of the earth. But I can’t make the decision for you.”

Yves rubbed a hand over his face. He wished Doug would. Perhaps it was his cowardice whispering in his ear, but he feared being responsible for any disastrous outcomes, and knowing Duke Gerard, Yves suspected the Duke would come out on top by making Yves look like the family failure. “Strategically what you think would be the safest thing to do?”

Leaning back, Doug appeared to take a second to collect this thoughts. “Jarvinen is right about one thing: I don't know all the players. I can't predict them the way I can predict the opponent's defense in a game.”

“Trust me, you have far better instincts for this than I do.  I have spent so long avoiding any thought of my family that I don't know that I have a clear understanding of them.”

“Join the dysfunctional family club,” Doug said with a wry smile.

“I just want to feel safe,” Yves confessed. As if saying the words had given his nebulous fears more substance, the pressure grew in his chest.

Doug pulled Yves into a hug and held him. Surrendering to the strength in Doug’s arms, Yves rested his head on his shoulder. “My best advice is to avoid any middle ground,” Doug eventually said. “A man like your father is going to see half measures and compromises weakness.”

“That's what we shouldn't do. So what should we do?”

“We could go into full retreat,” Doug said, but his tone suggested he did not prefer the solution. “We could go back to the US and stay as quiet as possible. We vanish from the public eye, and your father will see that as winning. As long as he gets what he wants, he will probably leave us alone.”

“Probably.” Yves echoed the relevant word. “That doesn't feel particularly safe.”

“It's no more dangerous than the other alternative.”

Yves sat up and turned so he was facing Doug. “And what would that be?”

Instead of answering, Doug studied Yves’s face for a long time—long enough that the stillness between them grew awkward. “We go on the attack,” he finally said. “We show him how much we know and let him see enough of our weaponry that he is scared to take us on.”

That sounded less like a plan than a vague suicide attempt. “What weaponry are you talking about?”

“Our strongest threat is letting the world know what he did to your mother, right?”

“Yes.”

“But if we simply went and told people the story, would that carry much weight?”

A dark laugh escaped from Yves’s chest. “Given my history of drug use and the fact that my family would never corroborate any detail, at best it would make fodder for the tabloids.”

Doug nodded. “Exactly. But what if we show your father that we were willing to gather evidence and prove him a murderer?”

“And how would we do that?” A small part of Yves liked the idea of besting his father—of forcing the man to acknowledge that Yves could take a measure of power for himself. However, that impulse felt a lot like the one that had goaded him into a relationship with Rudy Sava. Yves had learned through hard experience to distrust part of his own psyche.

Doug’s expression twisted into an evil grin. “Very simple. We let ourselves be seen outside a genetic testing facility. We let the press know that you’re getting tested. We make vague comments that whet the press’s appetite for more and then we stop. It’s like cocking the gun and letting that sound warn the other person that you’re ready and willing to fire it.”

“Playing… what is the term… chicken?” Yves waited until Doug had nodded that he had the idiom right. “Playing chicken with the Duke is far more dangerous than you think. If we take the ruse that far, he may try to act before we can take it farther.”

“Playing chicken with me is just as dangerous,” Doug said. “I don’t know your father, but I have spent the last ten years around people with obscene amounts of money. I have seen who squandered power and who hoarded it. I have seen players make owners back down, and I have seen them manipulated out of their last penny. I know power.”

“And I don’t?” Yves asked. He might be offended at that because he had grown up around the sort of court politics an American could never imagine. The entire continent lacked context to understand royal power since they had long ago dethroned their royals. Well, except for Canada, and as Yves understood it, the English monarchy had abdicated any real authority over the new world.

Doug squeezed his hand. “I think your father spent decades keeping you away from any source of power.”

Yves snorted. “He did.” Looking back, his father had even discouraged Yves’s language studies when that was the one area where he excelled. If Yves did anything worthy of praise, his father had discouraged it. In fact, it had been Hagan who had encouraged his languages by speaking French and English with him so he would have more practice. Yves rubbed his temples. He felt like his whole life had come unmoored.

Doug knelt in front of Yves and caught his hands, holding them tightly. “Fight or run. Both are dangerous. If your father is a narcissist and really thinks he’s better than us, we would be better off running. No matter how much ammunition we have, he’ll assume he can beat us and he’ll never stop coming. If he’s a coward, we should fight. He would see running as proof that we’re scared and that would encourage him. I can’t make this decision because I don’t know your father. You do.”

“And if I’m wrong?” Yves asked. If Hagan was right, both their lives would be in danger if they took either course. Doug just continued to look at him, his eyes storm dark. To keep Doug safe, Yves should leave. He should go home to his father where the Duke could keep him close. Then he wouldn’t worry about what Yves might do or say. Looking back, his father had always held him close. He had sent Albert and Mary to boarding schools. Albert had spent four years in the military and Mary travelled across Europe. But Yves had never left the country except at the Duke’s side. If Yves went back, he could reset the clock. He could give Doug an escape hatch back to his own life. To safety. God help him, but Yves wasn’t strong enough.

“He’s a coward,” Yves said.

Doug smiled. “Then we fight.” He cupped the side of Yves’s face. “But not tonight. Tonight the rest of the world is out there and in here, it’s just us.” He leaned closer.

Because he was kneeling, Yves had to bend down to meet his kiss. Doug’s lips were warm and his strong fingers cradled the back of Yves’s head as their lips parted. Lust rose like a mist and Yves shoved all worries about his father aside. Right now, Doug mattered. This bright connection between them mattered. The rest of the world could burn for all Yves cared.

Yves traced circles against Doug’s arm. "I love you," Yves whispered as if it were a confession. “I’m scared I’m pulling you into danger.”

Words failed Yves, but generally they did. He’d never had the words to explain to Albert how badly he was hurting and needed his brother’s support. He’d never been able to explain his fears to therapists. He spoke so many language, and yet words eluded him. Since he couldn’t find the words for his fears and his love and his desire, he rested his palms against Doug’s cheeks, soaking in the warmth that Doug radiated. 

Doug rested his hands on Yves’s hips, and Yves slid his hands under Doug’s shirt, pushing it up. Doug pulled it off and tossed it carelessly aside, and Yves rested his hands against Doug’s broad shoulders.

Yves pressed his lips to Yves’s. Gentle at first, but when Yves opened his mouth and gripped Doug’s shoulders, the moment erupted into white lust. Doug caught him by the waist and lifted him, and Yves could feel those strong muscles cord under his hands. Then Yves caught the back of Doug’s head and their kiss grew harder, hungrier. Doug walked toward the bed, and Yves wrapped his legs around Doug, a moan escaping. 

Then Yves was flying backward for a half second before landing on the bed. “Oh my,” Yves whispered, and then Doug was on him, kissing his neck and working the buttons on Blair’s shirt. When he had Yves’s shirt over, Doug’s hands skimmed over his chest, teasing with feather touches. When Doug touched Yves’s hard nipples, shivers raced through Yves’s skin. Doug rolled each nipple between his fingers, and Yves arched his back and fisted the sheets. A mangle of curses from different languages fell out of his mouth when Doug sucked on a hard nipple. Digging his heels into the bed, Yves arched up, his body demanding movement, but Doug’s weight trapped him.

Doug reached for his belt, but Yves’ reached it first, unfastening it before working the button of his pants. When Yves pressed his palm over the prominent erection trapped under Doug’s zipper, Doug hissed and surged forward, landing with his hands on either side of Yves’s head.

“I’m going to come in my pants if you do that.” His voice was ragged.  Yves brushed his fingertips across the tented fabric. Doug breathed heavily, the hot air skittering across Yves’s skin. Sitting back up, Jim shoved at his pants and boxers so his erection bounced free. With a wicked smile, Doug scooted backward on the bed and reached for Yves’s zipper.

At Doug’s first touch over Yves’s trapped cock, Yves shivered and moaned low in his throat. Perhaps sex had been clouded by drugs in the past. Perhaps Doug was simply much better than any partner Jim ever had. Jim wasn’t sure which—but he knew his body sang when Doug touched him. Doug lifted him, pulling off Yves’s pants and underwear, leaving him laying spread out on the bed and gasping.

Then Doug lay beside him, their legs tangling. When Yves reached for him, Doug ran a thumb over the head of Yves’s cock. Fire raced up his nerves—hot pleasure so intense that it almost crossed to pain. Doug slowly slid down Yves’s body, peppering that his chest with a few random kisses until he reached Yves’s cock.

Doug took Yves in his mouth, sliding down until the head of Yves’s cock vanished. The sight of Doug with all his strength, all his power, there between Yves’s legs sent a wave of need through Yves. He bucked up, but Doug caught him with an arm over his hips, holding him captive while slowly sliding up and down on Yves’s cock.

Yves cried out. He needed more. Faster. Deeper. But Doug held him trapped on the edge of coming, impossibly hard and gasping for air. Doug paused, and then his back arched and he came with a grunt without taking his mouth off Yves’s cock. Yves moaned piteously while Doug came in his own hand. The idea that Doug found this sexy enough to come was almost enough to push him over. Almost. But not enough, and now Yves’s need was a monster threatening to consume him. After a second, Doug went back work, his lips brushing against the head of Yves’s cock before he took Yves into his warm mouth again. He sucked harder, and Yves cried out a warning. He couldn’t hold back.

Doug didn’t pull back. He continued to suck while Yves came so hard that white spots danced in his vision and his chest ached. Slowly, consciousness returned, and Yves stared at the ceiling while Doug settled next to him on the bed. Yves reached blindly for him. 

"You are perfect," Yves said.

A long pause filled the air before Doug answered. "I’m not. I’m selfish and insecure about how people see me. I’m arrogant and pushy and flawed in ways that I probably don’t even recognize," Doug said. "But with all my flawed self, I love you.”

Doug pulled him closer, and they lay tangled, their skin slowly cooling and the sweat drying. “I share most of those flaws, so you’re perfect for me.” Yves kissed Doug’s elbow since that was the closest body part and Yves didn’t have the energy to move. 

Doug chuckled and tightened his arms.