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One Nice Bug Per Day
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@lostxgentleman-blog
he felt saddened by the word. Lover. More like monster. Thatâs what he felt after the whole thing. He felt like a monster after what happened to the servant boy. When he mentioned first date, his brows furrowed together and he looked over to the neatly made bed. Swallowing thickly, he walked over to the bed before he sat down. Staring at the ground before he looked back up at the other. âDo I want to know what your idea is of a first date?â
his lips pursed inwardly before he looked to the ground. âI just canât leave my prince.â He protested before he looked back at him. âI canât just marry off when I just entered the court. This is my home and if I marry you... iâll have to go to your kingdom. Even as your plaything.â He shook his head at his question. âNo. I have no other suitorâs... and I am no longer that boyâs...
was marriage now payment. He didnât expect this was how he married. A long sigh came from as he looked away. âTest my limits? I have a feeling I might end up dead after this...â grabbing the maleâs hand, he hurried them to the opposite of the manor, pushing him into his bed chambers. âAre you actually serious about this? I have to protest on a courtship from you.â Even though he was getting older and older. Usually, nobleman of their status married at the age of 18.
to say he didnât like the lips on his neck, the teeth biting into fleshâ- would be a complete lie. It had his knees weakened and he almost fell over. But when the other came out with his identity, it had the lord pause. He had to be lying right? Then againââ who would lie about something like that. A small scoff came from Alon, one of disbelief. âSo you are the King of Bergiaâs brother.... yet you want to court a lower nobleman like myself? Itâs like courting a servant....â
he was silent for a long moment before a soft gasp came from him at the hands on his ass, the way his fingers dug in hard had him shivering. âD-Donât... n-not in front of him....â he begged in a whisper, crystal hues darting back to the servant. It was clear the scene upset the boy by his expression changing quickly. He couldnt tell him. Not after what happened when it was revealed that the two were lovers. Lord Cale had his closed traditions. And a Lord and Servant lovers, it caused the tongue to be removed of the boy. To prevent anymore harm, Alon had called everything off and distanced himself from the boy. A quick bow and the boy ran off. Alonâs head leaned back against the door of his fatherâs chambers. âHe was my lover... before my father cut is tongue out.â Harshly, he pushed the Evgeny away from him and adjusted his clothing. âItâs Lord Alon.â
the brush of his hand had his heart stopping for a moment before he swallowed thickly. Get yourself together, Alon. This man was a monster in every sense. His eyes narrowed slightly at his words. Of court? He didnât think surgeons counted in the court. Perhaps in Bergia they did. He didnât know much of Bergia except of the royal family; all because of his father. He swallowed thickly at the dukeâs words. His eyes closed before a shaken exhale left him. He had to remind himself to stay strong until this man left and went back home. He shouldnât be longâ- right? There were people that needed him for medicial purposes in Bergia. He heard footsteps and he looked over, staring at a young servant boy. The boy had longing in his eyes as he looked at Alon. âWe shouldnât be like this in public...â the noble whispered to the Duke, trying to avoid contact with the young servant.
âMy father is an extreme man...â he mumbled. âNot those of court.... and my father would refuse me married off someone not of court.â It was the whole reason his father made a way for Alon to wiggle into the position of a gentleman-in-waiting; hopeful that he might marry into the royal family. Alon had no expectations. At the mention of his back, he stood tall still. Heâd been lashed as a child but healed so he wouldnât scar. His back was almost numb to pain. Or so he liked to believe. âYou wish to continue to torment me?â He spoke softly, so his father could not over hear their conversation. âI thought you had already received your paymemt....â
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a low hiss was given as the nails were dug into his wound, brows furrowing together and he jerked his head away. âNo one will want me scarred.â He hissed out. âMatch? My father is senile.... and desperate to continue to Cale name. Heâs been claiming others are a good match for me only to force a courting.â
Both the nobles shook their head at his question. âI will order a servant to retrieve the items. So you can have more time with my son.â A sly smile came across the olderâs face. Alonâs crystal eyes widened again before he sighed heavily. Gods save me. âNow I must rest.â He spoke softly. Alon ushered the Bergian male out before closing the door behind them. Another sigh. âThank you.â He spoke softly before he stared down at his hand then touched the wound on his face. âThis will scar....â
Lord Cale thought for a long moment. âNo. I donât think so. Ah! I believe horse hair. I canât get close to the stables or Alonâs stead without having a coughing fit.â The need made the younger lord back up from the others more. Was Beautyâs hair on his clothing? He usually made sure he was clean of him then again, he was in a hurry to see his father. Lord Cale huffed. âBut itâs never been this bad... I donât think Iâm allergic to anything else.â
his eyes narrowed at the other as he gave him that look. Yes it was absurd. He has just met the man and now his father is asking if they were courted. Alon scoffed and simply crossed his arms, looking away. As if he would be courted by a man like him. He almost stumbled forward when he told him how they were having a good time. âD-Dont listen to him!â Alon protested, only having a gentle smile come from Lord Cale. At the question, the older noble shook his head. âNo. I havenât been able too for a month now.â
he stood uneasy as he watched the man get closer to his father. Lord Cale looked at him suspiciously. âWhy is the Bergian Surgeon helping a low lord like me?â His eyes flicked to Alon then back at Evgeny. âAre you twoââ?â Alon cleated his throat before a small laugh left him. âDonât be absurd, father.â Even though the man had gave him the most aroused feeling that he had ever felt before. Lord Cale just huffed. âHeâs been a shut in you know. A little companionship would do him some good.â Alonâs eyes widened and he stared at his father in disbelief. How the fuck could he just say that to a complete stranger. âFather!â Lord Cale just laughed before a cough was given. âIâm just growing old... Iâve lived past the time of my ancestors. They all died years before my time now. My heart is failing and my body is growing weak.â Alonâs eyes saddened.
he didnât want to say yes. He didnât want to give him that satisfaction. He just glared up at him but his mouth opened, a small moan escaping him as the knee pushed more. Fuck. This was sick. He was sick. Why was he enjoying it? Yet when the other finally pulled away, his head hung and he was shaking. His breath and body were trembling. He didnât know from what. Pleasure? Pain? A mixture of both? Slowly taking the bottles, he placed them in his coin pouch before slowly standing. âMy father... will be curious.... about what happened....â he stood tall before he inhaled deeply. âIâll claim I fell from my horse...â he mumbled before he motioned the man to follow him. He took the stares as he walked, not allowing them to bother him. He was used to the stares, after all, he was not the true son of Lord Cale. Leading him to Cale Manor, he ignored the servantâs gasps and concerns. Making his way to the chambers of his father, he opened the door slowly. âFather?â Lord Caleâs eyes widened as he laid there; bedridden. Alon just smiled, shaking his head. âIâm fine. Just an accident on Beauty....â he looked over at Evgeny. âIâve brought someone... they said they could help...â
the swift action of the blade leaving his check sent a shiver down his spine. When he thought it was over, the knife was placed into his hand. The sudden action left a gasp to come from him and his eyes closed tighter. This wasnât going to end? Would it? He would be scarred if it continued, unwanted in his mind. It caused the loneliness of his very being to increase at the mere thought. His fatherâs doing. His father always prided on his son with flawless featureâs, claimed that no one wanted a flawed man. His thoughts were cut through as he felt the knee of his abuser against him. Pale cheeks flushed a dusty red and his brows knitted together. It just increased his pulse, sent shivers down him. The hand tightened and it only made his feel dirty. Was he getting pleasure out of this torment? What was wrong with him? His length jumped against the knee inside silk before slowly hardening. âF-Fuck...â he cursed out from embarrassment.
âNonsense.â Alon said with a small huff. âYou did a good deed and I reward those, Ser Theo. After all, you didnât even know my title before you offered assistance.â Motioning to the store around them, a nod of his head was given. âAnything you wish. It is yours.â A small hum left him as he turned to look at the pile of fabrics. âLeather working? I would like a new belt. Perhaps some boots?â Speaking out loud mainly to himself to keep a mental note of what the man had said.
his pulse was racing, every movement; every stare had pain shooting through his face. But when the knife dig deeper, he almost tumbled forward. His vision blurring, he refused to pass out. He needed that medicine. Another muffled groan through clenched teeth, nails digging further into his bleeding palms. Perhaps it was a way to distract himself from the pain of his face with the pain of his hands. Crystal hues fluttered closed, breath still ragged. He wanted to plead for him to stop but he would not. He had a feeling that if he did, the other would just walk away with the bottle. His eyes closed harder, brows furrowed together. The hand on his throat turned him on a little but he wouldnât admit it out loud.
