A/N: So, first chapter done. Now the second is too. Oh, my mom bought eggs and we have nine chicks. The names are Rocky, Starbucks, Chubbs, Lazlo, Hamilton, Medusa, Zeke, Skunk, and Coon. I named them all obviously. On a side note, my friend almost got laid but whiskey dick stopped it from happening. I died laughing. If you don't know what it is...google it. I'm not your dictionary.
Sparrow grimaced and smacked his lips. Feels like something crawled in my mouth and died, he mentally complained, smacking his lips again. The sun fought the heavy black out curtains he had in place on the windows; filling the space with a grey light. Yawning, he leaned his head back, making contact with...a something. What the something was he wasn't sure. It almost felt like a chest. It couldn't be...craning his neck back he frowned. Oh yeah. He and Reaver fucked last night. The older man was watching him too, one eye creaked open and his lip in a sneer. "Good morning Princess."
Groaning, Sparrow rolled back over and nuzzled his face into the sofa cushions. If the damn problem wouldn't go away on its own, he was going to go back to sleep and ignore it. Reaver frowned, disappointed the bait was taking. He shrugged then viscously pinched his ass. Sparrow yelped and swung an elbow back, effectively clipping Reaver in the chest and shoving him half off the sofa and half on the floor. "What the bloody hell is your problem?" Sparrow unhooked their legs and dumped the rest of Reaver's naked body on the floor. He glared with the vexation of a lion, with a mane to match, his maroon hair in every direction, and his muscles tensed.
"Someone's a grumpy one in the mornings." Reaver cradled his arms behind his head and blew a kiss at the king from the floor. Sparrow's right eye twitched before his right hand curled into a fist. Reaver yawned from his position, keeping an eye on the ruler as he stretched out his gangly limbs. He wasn't really worried. After all, his Dragonstomper lay half a foot away from him. Sparrow grumbled and rolled away from the edge of the sofa so his back was to him again. Maybe Reaver would have the decency to let him get some more sleep. Sparrow doubted it, but it was worth a shot. Reaver's eyebrow lifted in a delicate manner, a slight tick working its way in his jaw. So far he had been ignored twice, and any sane man or woman would be begging him for a repeat sexcapade. But was this intolerable royal brat begging? No. He was ignoring him. And Reaver knew for a fact that he hated being ignored.
Sparrow didn't even flinch as the gun clicked in his ear, the trigger cocked and gun ready to go. He merely pointed a finger back and released a small shocking spell, knocking Reaver onto his ass. He could feel the damn anger rolling off of Reaver in waves. It was almost...no it was comical. Yawning he scratched the nape of his neck and shrugged a shoulder back. Reaver wouldn't kill him. If he could he already would have and with great relish. Just as Sparrow couldn't kill the other that easily. That put a damper on his mischevious mood and he sat up grumpily, rubbing an eye and twisting to pop his back. Out of his peripheral he could see Reaver getting back on his feet with a snarl and he knew for a fact this time he would shoot a round into Sparrow's flesh, to maim of course.
The bullet grazed his arm as it lodged itself in his very, very, expensive sofa and Sparrow finally looked at the man. Naked man. Hot naked man. No, not now, he mentally reprimanded himself, settling for folding his arms with hands hooked under his armpits. The playful Reaver was gone, and in its stead was the very serious, very, pissed off Reaver. With a gun. Sparrow cracked his neck. "If this is the way you treat all your lovers, then no wonder why you have to go through so many." Reaver raised a brow, eyes still cold as he smirked. "I go through so many because they usually don't survive me." Sparrow shrugged. "Are you saying you're killing off my people?" His tone was nonchalant, but his eyes were the eyes of King Sparrow, with his people's wellbeing being top priority. He didn't care how good a fuck the man was or if he did need him to sort out the economical pile of shite. Reaver's smirk grew as he airily brushed the hair out of his eyes and continued playing with his bangs.
"Of course not my liege. I'm merely implying they can't handle me. Therefore, they cannot survive the heat of my loins nor heart for an extended period of time." Sparrow doubted that just as he doubted Reaver really meant it when he called him liege, but he had no proof that Reaver was killing them off. The man most likely was, for it was in his very character to be quick tempered and fickle. There was also the blatant lack of morals, unless you could count hedonism as one, which you can't. Sparrow grunted, one hand touching tentatively at the gunshot wound. It was a scratch. Reaver himself had a burn on his prized alabaster skin, by the looks of it...it would scar. Sparrow smirked. One point to him. Very faintly he could hear Theresa chuckling. He wondered if she had watched them fuck. She probably had. She was a voyeur, in essence. Reaver huffed and tapped his foot. The moron was ignoring him again, staring off into space with a dopey grin.
He was probably having a mental discussion with the blind she-witch over their amusing debacle. Reaver knew a manipulator when he saw one, and that women was no more moral then he was. Sparrow yawned, pulling himself off the couch and stretching his arms up to the ceiling. Reaver was momentarily distracted at the sight of all those muscles. Delicious, taught, succulent, morally righteous muscles. Coming forward he placed the Dragonstomper on Sparrow's hipbone and traced it to his navel, the barrel playing with his sire's bellybutton. Sparrow gave him a weird look and shivered, the cold metal of the gun and Reaver's closeness fogging his mind with flashbacks of the previous night. But it wasn't the same night, and his gunshot wound still stung. So, clapping a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, he pulled his face up with a rough hand. He let his eyes remain fogged with desire, and he leaned an inch away from those sinful lips. "Reaver..."
Reaver smirked, his own cold eyes slightly warmer and his dick slightly harder. This was what he was expecting to happen in the first place. "Yes, my liege..." His voice had dropped to his husky bedroom baritone while one hand was placed dangerously close to the king's inner thigh. "Last night was a one time thing you asshole. The gunshot also seriously fucked you over for any repeat performance of anything." Sparrow shoved with all his strength, sending Reaver tumbling back a few feet. Reaver sighed with remorse at the sight of Sparrow pulling his pants back on. "You say that now, but come another dark and dreary night you'll be back in my arms." Sparrow stiffened, but said nothing as his buttoned his pants. He felt this nagging doubt in the back of his head that seemed to agree with the eloquent drawl. His headache was starting to come back and it was barely noon. His temper flared when Reaver pulled him into his arms from behind and nibbled on his ear. "At least let me give you a parting gift." Every voice in his head was screaming for him to refuse, but at the feel of his hands unbuttoning his pants and sliding down, Sparrow gave an inch.
He looked back at Reaver with a smirk. "Blow me." Reaver cocked a eyebrow. "You can't be serious." Reaver had given them before, but only in the manipulation of getting into someone. He didn't hand them out like party favors. Smacking Reaver's hands away, Sparrow grinned. "Guess you don't want a second chance inside me." He was playing a game. He didn't know how desirable he was to Reaver, but it was worth a shot.
Sparrow was expecting the snarl, but not the rapid movement of skin to find Reaver on his knees attacking his buttons. Reaver snarled at one stubborn button resolving the issue by simply ripping the damn thing off and throwing it across the room. Brushing his hair out of his eyes he looked up at the smug king. "Don't you dare try to come on my face. I'll shoot this thing right off." Sparrow coughed, covering his grin and mock seriously nodding. Reaver would have to admit, out of all the few dicks he sucked, there were only one or two that could surpass Sparrow's. It wasn't the biggest thing he had to choke down, but it certainly was one of the more pleasant. Sparrow spent his load rather quickly, but then again he wasn't surprised. After all, it was Reaver did was have sex all the time. Grimacing, Reaver swallowed the load and wiped his hand across his lips. It always tasted horrible.
Sparrow gave him a shit eating grin and re-buttoned his pants up. "Thank you for that gift." "Oh do be quiet. I'm trying to forget I did such a disgusting thing." Reaver smeared at his lips again with a hand and stood up; glancing around for his neat pile of clothes. Sparrow fetched his shirt while Reaver slid his pants on. The brunette glanced back at the ginger and smirked. It seemed the not so high and morally righteous man did enjoy the carnal desserts he offered. It would only be a matter of time before he was sliding in and out of that tight ass. His dick fought to stand at attention at the mention of sex, but Reaver knew better then to allow it to. after all, he had been lucky to give the other man the blow job instead of the other way around. at that note Reaver soured and deigned the man a scowl, shrugging his jacket on. He sniffed and wandered to a window, peeking at the snow and various snow men on the grounds. Reaver rolled his eyes.
"Do you really allow your servants to foolishly squander time?" Sparrow blinked at the man. "If they have all the chores done, what do I care?" Reaver snorted and tapped his foot impatiently. "No wonder the economy is in the gutter. You're allowing them to have breaks. It cuts down on proficiency." Sparrow rolled his eyes and cracked his neck. His headache had vanished with the rest of his spent sperm, and a lot of the tension between the two was gone. He really had to get to work though, and having the temptation bitching in his study wasn't going to help at all. "Well if you want to stare your hatred at the joy of my people, there's other windows. But I must insist you leave, as I have real work to do." Reaver smirked a nasty, nasty, smirk while turning on his heel and following the man to his desk. "That's what I came here to talk about, my dear fellow." His hand rested on the sitting ruler's elbow. Sparrow shrugged it off and grabbed a stack of papers, brows already furrowed in thought.
"Talk then, but make it quick. I'm already behind because of your tomfoolery squandering away my time, as you delicately put it." Reaver sat, no LOUNGED, on his table, legs sprawled open in a devilish invitation with the devil's sneer, blue eyes snapping hellfire at him. Sparrow dimly noticed the man hadn't put on his shirt under his coat as the man's alabaster skin glared at him and mocked him. It aggravated him that the snarky man thought that alone could distract him and tempt him into foolishly giving into his weaker side. It aggravated him even more when he realized that it was working to that goal. "I would dare say you need me back." "You would dare say a lot of things," Sparrow muttered, sniffing and glancing back at his increasingly boring stack of papers. Maybe if he just gave in and had a quickie, things would be better...shaking his head, Sparrow snorted. Damn the man.
Reaver quirked a eyebrow and huffed along his finger nails, buffing them on the black fur of his coat. Sparrow ignored him, only grumbling angrily at the complicated math problems associated with this...scribble of a construction crew's plea for a new pub. Reaver leaned over the scrap of paper only to burst into a peal of dark laughter. "By gods they're dumb! What have you been allowing your people to learn over the past few-" His tirade was interrupted simultaneously by a knock at the door and a punch to the shoulder. The knocking continued. Sparrow gave Reaver a glare like he orchrastrated the unfortunate timing of a visit. The man shrugged and held his hands in a mock apology. Grumbling death threats, Sparrow tried not to limp as he stormed across the room to yank the door open, only to have the overwhelming need to slam it in the occupant's face. Of course Page would like to visit today, along with her piss poor attitude and bitchy mannerisms at gods know what hour. She shoved past him. "Oh just come right in, make yourself comfortable..." He muttered, keeping the door open. He may need to bolt from her bitch fit once she saw what was lounging on his table and the various love bites on his neck.
"I had to break up two fights today. Two! And do you know who started it? Your damn nobles, that's who did! I cannot believe the nerve of-" Page's fists halted in their wild swinging at the sight of her most despised enemy. Lounging on her king's table. With no shirt. And the most disgustingly come hither look on his face. Reaver pursed his lips and blew her a kiss. "Come now love, not all of us nobles are that bad. As I do believe, your king is one. And he isn't that bad a sort I would dare to say." Again with the dares...Sparrow grumbled and slunk to his sofa, massaging his temples, the headache was back. He was beginning to wonder if he took a brick and smashed it into his temple if these damn recurrent headaches would stop. Or he could smash it into the other peoples' temples. Then they would stop talking. And he could even get some peace and quiet...ahhhh...he day dreamed happily until he heard the crack of a gunshot. Reaver was no longer lounging on his table in a carefree manner, and Page had her rifle pointed at the man, a snarl to her lips and a mad gleam to her eye. Sparrow sighed. "That's enough." Reaver's eye twitched. "It's not over until this plebian is dead at my feet." Page smirked, her feet sliding into a fighting position.
"The same for me." Sparrow cracked his neck and let some of his Hero persuasion roll through his voice as he repeated his order. Page swayed, but didn't let go of her gun. Reaver didn't even budge. Sparrow's eye twitched. What was the point in being a ruler when no one listened to him? sometimes he felt like the damn babysitter with spoiled brats as charges. "Reaver has recently been reinstated as controller of the Industry district. Along with-" "He's been what now!" Page's fury was now aimed along the barrel of her rifle at the very agitated ruler. He blinked calmly, shifting so he was peeking at both parties with one eye, the other hand covering the other. Reaver laughed. "I knew it! So, now that that has been settled my dear, you can take your lower class opinions on the work force and shove them up your-" "Along with Page." Reaver's jaw snapped shut before his gun was pointed at Sparrow also. "Explain yourself." Reaver's joyous tone of voice was downright frigid. Sparrow shrugged.
"I need the sense of strict workmanship he can provide. I also need it to be fair workmanship." Reaver snorted while Page kept her rifle pointed at him. It was really getting infuriating. Sparrow cracked his neck. "I can't just let the economy slide into ruin Page." He stared until she huffed and lowered her rifle.
"Fine. But I'm not sharing an office with him." Sparrow smiled, coughing into his hand. Reaver still didn't move, and his eyes were snapping. Sparrow grinned. He could just imagine the man stomping his foot like a spoiled child in rebellion at this stipulation to his warranted throne. Reaver could spit nails. The woman, Page who had to be a lesbian for not falling to his charms, was chattering on and on with growing enthusiasm while he was still being ignored. Sparrow was grinning at him like an idiot. Reaver could feel the back of his neck flush and his finger tightened on the trigger. One shot. One shot and he could...wait. He could make his sovereigns life a living hell if he wanted to. Cocking his head to the side, Reaver holstered his gun and bowed deeply and in a mocking manner. "As you say my king." Sparrow narrowed his eyes but didn't have much of a chance to investigate the sudden change in attitude as Reaver was already sweeping his way out of the room with a shit eating grin. If his king wanted to try and force him into his hand, then Reaver had a few tricks up his sleeve to pull out.
Page watched as her friend stiffened when Reaver brushed past him to get out the door. She wasn't stupid by any means, and a life of growing up with an eye on the nobles had taught the commoner to read in between the lines. Something had happened and something had changed. Reaver seemed more full of shite then usual and her king was on edge. Usually Sparrow approached most things with the regal air of calmness and let's get it solved attitude. But seeing him almost change to the other extreme spectrum of irratibility worried the resistance fighter slightly. She bit her lip but said nothing beyond a parting barb at the hedonist as he disappeared in a whirl of white coat tails and a crude blown kiss. She could have sworn she heard a invite for a threesome, but that would happen over her dead body. More likely his. Her eyes narrowed again and she turned on her heel. "Want to explain to me what he was really doing here?"
Sparrow yawned as he shuffled back to the desk to being reorganizing the disturbed stack of papers. He glanced at her then rolled his eyes. "I don't have to explain anything beyond what I told you." She snorted and crossed her arms, pinning him with a glare. Sparrow sighed. This day was just not going to go his way, was it? The answer was a sad no. He had so hoped to get some work done then rampage the snowy lawn with one of his many offspring but that wonderful day dream was blocked by an angry cloud. An angry cloud with sizable breasts and a growing scowl which would send the Crawler scuttling back to his hole. He gave her a bored stare. "I'm not saying anything else on the matter. Would you like some tea?" It was a sad excuse of a topic change, but he was not discussing last night with her. Ever. In fact, Sparrow would rather have no one know at all. That would be wonderful. No consistent badgering, no shrill shrieks of disgust, no bodily injuries...ah...Theresa tsk tsked in his head but he just ignored her.
Page let a deep breathe out and forced herself to calm. It was obvious Sparrow didn't want to talk about anything and she couldn't force him to. She sniffed. "That would be lovely." It came out as a growl. One of Sparrow's eyebrow's lifted, along with a corner of his mouth. Hie eyes lit up as she flounced to the chair next to the desk and sulked in her seat. "Glad to accomadate you, my dear guest." Page snorted, shaking her head and feeling the weight of her braids as they fell against each other. "You're starting to sound like him. Stop it before I loose my lunch." Both chuckled, the air losing its taught tension. She leaned on an elbow. "May I say something though?" Sparrow hummed, focused now on his work. "If you do fuck him, use a condom. I don't want to think on how many diseases he has." Sparrow snorted, but grinned and flicked the hair out of his eyes airily."I give my solemn word my lady." "You're full of shit."
AN: Writers block has kicked my ass. My apologies.