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Ferid is relentless when he wants something. Nana, you’ve known this all along, but you still spoil him. It’s too late for that child to be disciplined.”
“Your Majesty, if I may… Ferid-sama has been behaving like the Prince you wish him to be. He may be willful at times, but he is flawless in any other aspect. Your majesty, please, he particularly hates attending round table meetings. I usually have to fetch him and press him to prepare.”
“Very well,” Saitou stands and saunters toward the door. His shoes squeak as he turns back to address Nana.
“I will fetch him. But from now on, refrain from spoiling him.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
Saitou tightens his tie and walks out of the room. He enters Ferid’s room without knocking. Ferid who is standing in front of the mirror smirks, pleased at his Father’s intrusion. He eyes Saitou’s reflection carefully as it slowly closes the door with his dark, indifferent eyes roaming inside the room. A molecule of Saitou’s perfume wafts in the air and catches Ferid’s attention. His eyes dilate. Overcome by the fragrant and wild scent of his Father, he flares his nose to breathe him in. Ferid bites his bottom lip and tightens his ribbon that he was about to loosen before Saitou entered. Excited, Ferid wheels around.
“Tou-saaaaan~” Ferid chuckles flirtatiously; his cheeks red.
“You didn’t lock the door. Perhaps you were expecting me to come?”
“Of course not! I sometimes forget locking up… tou-san”
Saitou smirks. The sound of his footsteps was a sound Ferid can’t keep himself from listening to. Its slow progression was like a vine that creeps up to him, slowly wrapping itself around his throat to choke him.
“Tou-san..” Ferid heaves.
Saitou looks serious. He runs his hand across Ferid’s oaken table, bats his eyelids, and raises his eyes. Ferid’s gaze never left Saitou’s hand. The slight movement of the skin that wrapped around Saitou’s knuckles did not escape Ferid’s lecherous stare.
“Ferid.”
Ferid swallows a lump in his throat and looks at his Father.
“You are still not dressed.”
“Aah~ I was considering not attending. Since tou-san is here and all… I am no longer needed.”
Saitou withdraws his hand and puts it inside his pocket. He stops in front of Ferid and reaches out to touch his son’s hair. Saitou loves long hair. Ferid knows this, that’s why he likes teasing his Father just to test him. Ferid raises his shoulder, cocks his head to the side, and smiles.
“Tou-san…” He places his slender hands on his Father’s imposing shoulder and holds himself back from touching the latter even further by rubbing his fingertips together. Now that Saitou was close, his scent was stronger and even more intoxicating than before.
Saitou only stares at him with cold, piercing eyes. Ferid knows too that it takes more to move his Father. He hates this aspect of him because hated everything that reminds him of his Father’s elusiveness.
Pulled fabric; the sound of creaking threads fills Ferid’s ears as he forgets his surroundings because of drowning in Saitou’s closeness and fragrance. Saitou loosens his ribbon, and a soft gasp unknowingly escapes his lonely mouth upon the realization of such fact.
Ferid wasn’t expecting this development.
“Your Nana told me you particularly hate attending round table meetings. Care to tell me why?”
The ribbon is loose, but the sound of pulled fabric and his madly beating heart haunted Ferid. His breathing constricts as Saitou untangles his ribbon. Saitou always made him unable to breathe. For this reason, he knows he will never win against his Father because a sheep will never win against a lion by sheer force.
Breathless, an intense urge to wrap his arms around his Father’s neck possesses Ferid. Saitou undos his buttons. The plopping sound this made oppresses him as images of him undressing Saitou floods his brain.
“Tou-san..” Ferid breathes.
“Nana mentioned you hated wearing our Military uniform. Is that the reason why?”
“Nnn.. That’s not it.”
Ferid feels Saitou’s touch burn him. The hands that worked to undress him made his mind rage and the thing between his thighs hard.
Saitou trails the large hands that Ferid loved so much oh so slowly across Ferid’s stiff shoulders as if to tease him.
“The epaulets would look good on your shoulders.”
Nonchalantly, Saitou thumbs across its curves and presses his palms against the bony convex.
“You’ve been practicing nonstop. That’s good. Your biceps are firm..”
Ferid raises his eyes and rests his gaze on his Father’s comely face. Aroused, he runs his tongue across his upper lip and slides a hand down Saitou’s arm. He wraps it around his Father’s waist, just above the swell of Saitou’s muscular ass, and says, in the most enticing way he can,
“Tou-san,”
Saitou stops what he was doing and stares back at him. They gaze into each other’s eyes for a second until Ferid finally says, breaking the ice:
“My trunk looks good too.”
A sheep may never win against a lion by sheer force, but perhaps, the sheep can outsmart the lion.