Almost instantly, Hen did just that, most of him going slack in the water. His backside lifted a little, and Dagan took the opportunity to roll his balls and rub a finger against his taint. Hen’s knees fell apart—safely, because of course Dagan checked the bandage—and his backside lifted a little more.
All of Hendrik, there in his arms, to do whatever he wanted with. And what he wanted, more than anything, was to hear that sweet little whimper again. So after a few moments stroking between Hen’s legs and eliciting delightful little shudders, Dagan wrapped his bath-warm hand around Hen’s hard, even hotter prick.
Hen’s belly tensed and he sank a little. He grabbed Dagan’s face in one hand and turned it, kissing him suddenly, sharply, all teeth against lips. “I fucking missed you,” Hendrik huffed. “I know you were here, you were always here, but I fucking missed you so much.”
For the first time in almost a week, a sharp, hot sensation bit at Dagan’s eyes. If Hendrik said one more word, they might overflow. So Dagan kissed him again, harder, just as sharp, and deeper. He kept possession of his mouth as he stroked his cock beneath the water, slow at first, then faster, faster. Hendrik’s little gasps became those needy whimpers, interrupted only by the stirring of Dagan’s arm in the water.
*
In the morning, a knock at the door woke them both at the same time. Dagan sat up, rubbing his eyes, hair chaotically falling all over. “I forgot to braid it again.”
Hen reached up to fingercomb it. “Mmm, yeah. Love when you do that.”
“That’s because you don’t have to deal with it.” Dagan laughed and peeled himself away with much difficulty. He grabbed for a robe, one of Jak’s many pretty things, and tied it around himself as he stumbled to the door.
“Tell them to fuck off,” Hendrik called after him.
Dagan would do no such thing. Their libidos had awakened after what felt like an age-long sleep, and it had been all Dagan could do to restrict their activities the night before to a few hand jobs and some intense making out. If they were left to their own devices all day Dagan was afraid he wouldn’t have the willpower to keep Hendrik from wearing himself out.
Dagan made sure nothing shocking was poking out of the robe, then unlocked and opened the door.
Piret and Jak stopped talking mid-sentence, both of them staring, mouths open.
For a moment, Dagan was abashed; was it cruel for Jak to see them like this? Surely, he knew what went on better than most. But the way Jak grinned and cocked his nicked eyebrow playfully said he liked what he saw. Dagan tried not to preen too obviously. He threw his hair over his shoulder with what he hoped was a charming little flip, because he couldn’t help himself.
“Good morning. It’s morning, right?”
Piret nodded wordlessly, not bothering to close her mouth.
Jak said, “It looks like a very good morning, yes.”
“Feeling better then, Hen?” Piret called after a moment.
“I was!”
Jak chuckled and shot Dagan a knowing look. And suddenly Dagan was horny again. Damnation, he’s good.
Dagan stepped back and gestured for them to come in. They obliged, and by the time Dagan closed the door behind them and followed, Hen was sitting up in bed, sheets pooled in his lap, rubbing his face with one hand and leaning back on the other. His right knee poked from beneath the covers, the bandage below it clean and fresh as it had been the night before when they’d changed it. Good sign.
“You look like shit,” Piret said bluntly as she came to greet him. “But way better than you did a few days ago, so I’ll take it.”
“That’s what everyone likes to hear when they’re naked in Jak’s bed, Piret.” Hendrik snorted and took the hand she offered him. “‘You look like shit.’”
“You do not look like shit.” Jak sighed and gave Piret a dirty look. “You look very handsome, just in a more waifish way than usual.”
Hen pointed at Jak. “That’s more like it. Honey-coat it for me.”
“Dagan, on the other hand, looks glorious. Keep the robe, please, I’d be ashamed to put it on again after seeing it on you.” Jak’s smile was positively lecherous as he eyed Dagan once more.
Hen fell back against the pillows, laughing. “If you insist…”
Piret was obviously trying not to look at Dagan, which Dagan found more amusing than all the rest of it put together. She always seemed so uninterested in that sort of thing. He wondered if it was the hair or the robe that did it for her. He’d have to ask. Someday, when he was drunk and brave enough.
“Fine, fine. We didn’t come here to flirt with Dagan, fun though it is.” Jak settled at the foot of the bed and reached out to grab Hen’s foot through the blankets. “We’ve got the monster ready to display. We need to get you to the victory parade.”
“Ughhhh…” Hen closed his eyes like that’d make them go away.
“You’re practically a legend among the guard now, you’ve been so invisible. People are telling all kinds of stories. They need to see you.”
Hen opened one eye to glare. “They can see you. Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” Piret said. “Eva wants you there, too. So does Kajja. I mean, you can’t let Kajja down…”
“That is blatant manipulation of a man in recovery from a dire injury, Piret,” Hen protested.
“Oh, now who’s manipulative? Ohhh, they sawed off my leg, I’m soooo fragile, I couldn’t possibly,” Piret sing-songed.
“Heartless,” Hendrik declared. “Look at it!”
Piret did, and declared, “It looks fine to me.”
Dagan pulled his legs up beneath him and settled on the bed too, careful not to flash anything. “To be fair, he is fragile.”
Piret had the grace to look abashed. Hendrik looked indignant.
“But,” Dagan rolled on before anyone could protest, “I agree. You should go and be seen. It’ll be good for you and for the people who know you here. Even the ones who don’t.”
“How is it good for me?” Hen glared.
