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Napoleon was drunk. It was no secret as he laughed at jokes he barely understood, made by his companion, who at this time happened to be the Duke of Wellington. The two were wasted, yet the night was still young, time to spare as things got a fair bit heated between them.
“Mr Wellesley…it has been a delight to finally sit and chat with you. I will be deeply sad must you insist on leaving…” His words were broken by the occasional drunken giggle, but the laughter of before had died down, as it seemed.
“Why thank you, Bonaparte. With such kindness, I don’t see any reason to leave on such short notice. It was me, after all, who arranged to come here.” His eyes were locked on Napoleon, gazing like a predator at it’s desired prey. Which was justifiable, considering desire seemed to be the only thing the Duke had been feeling, at least the past hour.
”Do you mean to stare that way?” Napoleon asked, voice suddenly a shy murmur, face hesitant as he awaited an answer.
”Are you interested in finding out, Bonaparte..?” A smirk suddenly grew on his face, making him appear somewhat seductive as he took a long sip of his whiskey, barely wincing as he set it down on the table.
”…Guards, you may retreat to your sleeping quarters…I’ve private matters with Mr. Wellesley.” He said this without taking a look at them, eyes fixed the whole time on the man who now seemed to bring a certain heat to his cheeks.
He watched the door close, the two guards quietly exiting the room. It was as if a switch flipped when the door came fully closed-Arthur had gotten up, making his way to the couch where Napoleon sat, carefully sitting next to him.
“Be good and lie down for me, Bonaparte.”Napoleon found himself obeying without question, lying lazily in front of the man awaiting his next move. Arthur slowly unbuttoned Napoleon’s white dress shirt, eventually having view of the young general’s bare chest.
“Pretty.” He murmured softly, his smirk faltering, something softer showing in his predatory gaze. Arthur removed a grew articles of his own clothing before pressing a kiss to Napoleon’s palm. This elicited a soft whine, somewhat indicating how needy Bonaparte was. Arthur continued kissing down his arm, eventually beginning to kiss his collarbone, nipping at the skin just slightly.
By the time Arthur had reached Napoleons other arm, Bonaparte was getting a bit fussy. He grinded his hardening cock against Arthur’s, both still not fully undressed.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Arthur firmly held Napoleon’s flushed face, squeezing his cheeks.
“Is it a crime to want to feel good?” Bonaparte snapped back, earning a smirk from him. He liked when Napoleon was…fussy. Arthur finally rid of his pants, revealing his hardening length to Napoleon. Arthur wasted no time in getting him prepared, pushing a finger in Napoleon’s hole slowly. One became two, and finally three. He pulled out the fingers, resisting a laugh as Bonaparte gasped.
”Very well, I order you to take a deep breath, Bonaparte.”
”I do not take or-“ The statement was cut off by a shuddering groan. Arthur bottomed out, letting him get used to the feeling itself. Of having something…well, inside. His thrusts were slow, deliberate, as if he knew how badly Bonaparte wanted this. He enclosed a hand around Napoleon’s jawline and neck, forcing him to look. Napoleon simply let out a strangled whimper.
“You like this, don’t you?” Arthur’s voice in his ear sent shivers up his spine, and it was as if he could tell the bastard was smiling. He wouldn’t be surprised if he derived pleasure solely from making a mockery of him. Nonetheless, the way his hips moved-strong hands gripping Napoleon’s backside, thrusting as if he was taunting him-it was all too good.
“Let me finish inside.” It seemed more a statement than a suggestion, so Napoleon didn’t answer-besides, all he could manage currently were filthy moans and pitiful whimpers. He felt himself nearing release as well. Suddenly, Arthur did what he had said-He came. It was going to take quite a while to clean up, especially when-And then Napoleon did as well, and he watched as cum spurted from his cock. Or, in better terms, onto the couch.
What an evening they had had.
And the night was only still so young.