Chapter Text
Lanville braces himself for anything—a fetish orgy, a week-long sex marathon—but not this. They are lying on the bed, fully clothed, and Feyd-Rautha doesn't even dare to take his hand.
"Don't you want to unwrap your coming-of-age gift?" Lanville jokes, immediately regretting it as Feyd blushes like a maiden.
"I thought Giedi Prime was more liberal," Lanville muses. "Haven't you ever...?"
"Wasn’t exactly high on my list," Feyd-Rautha mutters, averting his gaze.
Lanville reaches out, gently brushing his fingertips against Feyd's cheek.
"Don't worry, darling, we've got all the time in the universe."
Feyd nods silently. Then, contradicting himself, he leans in, breathing heavily in frustration into Lanville’s ear.
Lanville sighs, shifting on the bed to let Feyd settle atop him. ("When did he grow so big?" he wonders.) Feyd-Rautha places a wet, awkward kiss on his cheek—then another, this time on the lips, and then another. At the same time, he presses his groin against Lanville’s thigh, moving with shallow thrusts.
Lanville doesn't stop him, allowing Feyd to set the pace. He idly strokes his back, feeling the firm muscles beneath his palm. After so many years, it feels good to touch someone like this—someone he really cares for.
The end comes too quickly—Feyd thrusts once, twice, stretches out his entire body, trembling, and lets out something between a sob and a gasp. Lanville feels a damp spot spreading over his pants.
He freezes, worried Feyd might feel embarrassed or angry about the awkward situation. Instead, Feyd suddenly snorts against his shoulder. When he lifts his red, tear-streaked face, there’s a shit-eating grin spread across it. Lanville can’t help but smile too, and within seconds, both of them are laughing.
"Alright, princess," Lanville says after catching his breath, "let’s get you cleaned up and go for round two."