10001 Nightmares Party

🔞 [Fic] in a hallway, somewhere (Original Work)

WARNING: This fic contains written explicit sexual content between two consenting (fictional) adult men. It is intended for an adult audience only. Proceed with caution.

Summary:

Two hours before the wedding, Erhart sneaks off to fuck his guard.

Notes:

written for Issue 112 of Shousetsu Bang*Bang; first published dec 30, 2024.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Two hours before the wedding, Erhart sneaks off to fuck his guard.

He doesn’t even like Siegfried much; the man is big, boorish, dull . He only ever trains, spending hours each day working the sword and the bow and the spear, bullishly instructing the few other soldiers who went with them on how to best somebody looking to gut them like pigs. All there is to him is fat and muscle: large hands and a strong stomach and wide thighs and the most hideous beard that Erhart has ever seen . It’s as dark as the night, unlike his graying hair swept into the long braid that swings behind his back, and Erhart pulls on that stupid beard every time they have sex, gleefully trying to tear the dratted thing out at the roots, but it only ever seems to spur Sieg on.

Only ever seems to make his grin wider, and his eyes sparkle, and then Erhart is lost once more to the pleasure of that perfect thrust of Sieg’s proportionally big cock.

And Sieg is twice Erhart’s age, too: a relic of the system of knighthood that once existed in Erhart’s lands. Erhart remembers watching him in an exhibition match as a child, remembers being awed by the might of Sieg’s every movement, how fast he was despite his great size. Remembers the rush of bright excitement and gleeful joy when Sieg waved and bowed theatrically at the audience and tiny little Erhart pretended it was just for him.

Fuck, but he was a delusional child.

And now Sieg’s nothing but an aging guard for a minor noble, kept on retainer for his past glory and without prospects, on loan to Erhart’s cohort for the duration of this months’ long journey through the chilled, icy lands, where it’s freezing even inside the fortresses, despite the dozens of torches that burn bright on every wall, flames crackling, casting long, distorted shadows before them as they pass.

Erhart doesn’t know where the windows are open, letting in those dratted ice-cold winds that won’t leave his cheeks alone even when he’s got his scarf tucked high over his face—and he very much doesn’t , at the moment—but he curses those that descended to such abject villainy. Curses them most ardently .

“Thinking important thoughts?” murmurs Sieg into his ear, voice deep and rumbling—and with a slight and unfamiliar heaviness into Erhart’s ear, the tip of it almost turning into ice in the long, drafting hallway—and Erhart shudders, head tilting back, moaning when Sieg bites his earlobe, working it with his tongue until Erhart is reduced to a pliant, whimpering mess in Sieg’s large, warm arms, and kisses his way down Erhart’s neck—his breath a hot, aching thing against the cold air that constantly assaults them both. “Plotting world domination?”

“Fuck you, I have never done any such thing in my life ,” snaps Erhart on a hissing inhale as Sieg pulls his cock out and plunges it back in with force , because of course he does everything with force; such a simple-minded man, really.

Laughing, Sieg curls his palm on Erhart’s cheek, touch scorching on the flushed, sweaty skin and turns his face down, fingers brushing into his hair and thumb up under Erhart’s eye, undoubtedly ruining the glittery powder artfully surrounding it. “You haven’t,” Sieg agrees, eyes reflecting the torchlight, body tight around Erhart, keeping him up despite no connection on Erhart’s part to the floor. Smiling, Sieg noses at Erhart cheek—despite Erhart’s nose wrinkling and the little huff escaping him. “You’re a model citizen of the kingdom, even when you’re tricking innocent old men to fuck you in a grove under the moonlight.”

“That was a simple question ,” insists Erhart rightfully, glowering up at Sieg, despite currently getting fucked into the very uncomfortable stone wall, legs curled tight around Sieg’s wide stomach and toes nestled in the fat of his body, warm and toasty like nothing else of him is, ass hanging free and freezing every time Sieg cruelly pulls out of him, letting the air in between them. “Don’t move,” Erhart orders when Sieg pulls out again, and Sieg—the stupid, stubborn old man that he is—only raises an eye eyebrow with a small smile at Erhart until Erhart relents and hisses, “No, come on, fuck me, you know what I meant.”

“But however could I divine the complexity of your thoughts, dear,” Sieg simpers, absolutely grinning as he slowly, so slowly that it’s a specific kind of torture, thrusts his dick back inside Erhart, casually rearraring his insides as he goes, a soft whoosh echoing out of him. “For I am only a stupid, stubborn old man .”

“You—” blusters Erhart, red-cheeked and irate with it, and also so aroused that he is about to try to wrestle Sieg to the floor to take control and get the deep, hard fucking he deserves , damn it. …But he’ll let it go this time, because Sieg is truly providing quite good cover against the cold, and Erhart is once more forced to admit that Sieg does have his good points.

Darn it.

“You called me that in your sleep,” laughs Sieg, running his hand over Erhart’s cheek and into his hair, gripping the back of his head and holding it just the right way to protect his vulnerable skull from the vicious, cold stone wall, and kisses Erhart deep and filthy—and yet doesn’t even bother to thrust all the way inside him, Erhart’s hands locked around his neck and one wrong step from pulling on his hair.

Betrayal , thinks Erhart—this is an utterly despicable betrayal —eyelashes fluttering and moaning around the hot tongue in his mouth, body scorching where he touches Sieg, Erhart’s shirt pushed up and his dick trapped against Sieg’s stomach.

“It might not have been you,” mumbles Erhart when they come up for air between the kisses, shivering and trying to roll his hips, in search of friction and depth and that wondrous feeling of Sieg’s cock pushing at his prostate; but of course Sieg doesn’t cooperate, holding Erhart still effortlessly, biting Erhart’s lip and sucking on it despite Erhart’s protesting noises.

Sieg parts the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting them, and licks his lips, swallowing it up with a heavy gulp. He scratches a little at the back of Erhart’s head, and it lolls with his motions, Erhart’s neck loose from the prolonged fucking with no release, his muscles trembling and his lips parted as he stares breathlessly into Sieg’s deep, dark eyes, the eyelashes always so surprisingly long.

Smiling, Sieg finally hooks his hands under Erhart’s thighs and hoists him higher, dick sinking in deeper at the new angle, Erhart’s toes curling and chest heaving. “No, so sorry, dear,” Sieg drawls, smile crooked, “You said my name multiple times. Quite loudly, too.”

“… Fuck ,” mutters Erhart, head smarting when it strikes the wall, staring sightlessly at the dark ceiling and the light spilling in pieces across it.

Chuckling, Sieg hums; his chest drags tantalizingly against Erhart’s as Sieg embraces him tighter, thrusting in and out leisurely a few times, Erhart gasping and moaning every time his dick drags over his prostate, a slow, relentless sort of presence that ceases just when Erhart thinks he’s getting somewhere , the pressure in the pit of his stomach building and building without a path out. The more Erhart glares mulishly at Sieg every time Seig almost pulls his dick all the way out like the bastard he truly is deep inside , Sieg just smiles and nuzzles Erhart’s nose and cheeks, pressing little chaste kisses on him. Bastard , Erhart thinks, nearly seething.

“Good?” Sieg whispers into his ear, rolling his hips, balls slapping against him as Erhart’s back arches, his hands scrabbling for better purchase amongst Sieg’s rough clothing, and his hot breath sinks into Erhart’s frozen skeleton, warms him from the inside out the way his cock does. Shuddering, Erhart bites his bottom lip, and Sieg laughs again, jostling him as he finally thrusts rougher, pushing Erhart harder into the wall.

…It’s not rough enough , though, and Erhart whines, clenching his eyes shut as he bears down on Sieg’s dick and squeezes it as tight as he can in an act of nothing but petty vengeance, stomach fluttering and swooping at the pressure on his prostate, legs trembling as he quakes, his cock leaking where it’s trapped between their bodies without any mercy to be had.

“…Bastard,” mutters Erhart, and Sieg gets his hand into Erhart’s hair again, pulling on it.

“Yeah, you’ve said,” says Sieg, and pulls out until only the very tip of his dick is left inside his fluttering hole, and Erhart nearly cries, glaring at him, red-cheeked and teary-eyed. “But don’t worry,” whispers Sieg, kissing the corner of Erhart’s mouth. “I’ve got your back.”

Glowering, face only further flushed and heat high in his cheeks, Erhart spits a truly vicious, “I hate your guts.”

Sieg only laughs, body shaking, and goes back to the slow, maddening fucking. It occurs to Erhart then that while the hallway is out of the way, it’s not barred by any doors, and anybody could come by at any time. It’s occurred to him multiple times: during the point when he snapped and pulled Sieg away from the congregation surrounding Erhart’s sister and their mothers, during the time while they lurked around the hallways and rooms in search of somewhere empty to fuck—a search that took nearly an hour, as the fortress is bustling with the final preparations and overflowing with guests—and then during the time while they were frantically getting undressed just enough for Erhart to jump onto Sieg and get bullied into the wall, a hard cock between his legs as Sieg kissed and sucked on his neck, murmuring things like “So pretty when you’re bossy,” and “I just want to mess you up,” and even “That time you didn’t recognize your sister’s betrothed and called him an ugly duckling to his face was hilarious , I had to go hide in another room so I could laugh without getting arrested for treason.”

…That did kind of make Erhart’s erection go down, because ew , he doesn’t want to think of his sister at this moment.

But yeah, the thought has occurred to Erhart that someone might see them. It’s occurred to him multiple times.

He still hasn’t done anything about it.

“Sorry,” Sieg says, biting on Erhart’s earlobe and sucking it in between his teeth, tongue rolling around the earring, and Erhart’s shoulder curls up a bit at the sensation of Sieg’s beard—the ugliest thing in existence—grazing his skin. Sieg then grabs Erhart’s legs harder and thrusts back in with force, nuzzling his cheek. “But the wall’s not gonna be kind to your back, if I go all out.”

“Maybe I don’t care ,” sulks Erhart and he doesn’t even bother denying he’s sulking, because he’s been on the road and entirely sexless for the past six days as they hurried to get to the wedding in time—they stopped too often for sex on the road, and then it just made sense to sleep over in the grove, and then they had sex in the morning again, and then they didn’t set out again until after midday, and then Erhart couldn’t keep it in his fucking pants like the gentleman he was supposed to be and. rather eloquently if he can say so himself, propositioned Sieg when they took a break later in the day, and then they spent so much time fucking it just made more sense to sleep there for the night and then—

Yeah, so it’s Erhart’s fault it took them so long to get here.

But whatever, Sieg could have said no , he spitefully thinks, glaring at him, pleasure curling tight and steaming hot in the pit of his belly, every breath a shuddering, rattling thing that hitches in his throat. His fingers flex where they dig into Sieg’s shirt, stretching in search of skin he can dig his nails into. Sieg deserves it, Erhart thinks, eyelashes fluttering and head tilting as his back arches again, body undulating in Sieg’s warm, secure arms, little noises stolen from him on every thrust.

“I know you don’t,” Sieg says, hand on Erhart’s neck to move his head into the angle of another deep, filthy kiss, and the rotten bastard sounds amused , damn it. Erhart’s toes flex, and curl, and tingle as bright sparks of light linger on the back of his eyelids, the stupid torches scorching themselves into his brain. And Sieg doesn’t pull back much at all, really, when he bites Erhart’s lips and murmurs, “But you’ve got an important event coming up, and I don’t want to be the reason why you’re wincing the whole way through.”

Why must Sieg be beset with a conscience , wonders Erhart. And why must Erhart be the stupid fool whose heart trips a beat when Sieg says useless things like that.

Ugh.

“You think I’m not going to be wincing?” Scrunching his nose, Erhart puts it in the air, breath wheezy, and does his best to snap, “Uncommonly stupid of you, Sieg.” And then he moans, because of course he does.

“ Mnm ,” hums Sieg, nuzzling their noses together because he thinks—in his words—that it’s “cute” when Erhart holds his head high with his “nose in the air” and he “can’t resist, darling,” which is just an unfair, backstabbing attack. Sieg really is an evil, damning man, thinks Erhart, and holds his head still for the inevitable embarrassment even as Sieg keeps fucking him through it, Erhart’s balls drawing tight and lungs aching as he holds his breath in between the wheezing exhalations.

“Well, not that badly,” says Sieg, and kisses his cheek, beard scratching Ergart’s sweaty skin. It takes Erhart an embarrassingly long time to recognize what Sieg means, and then he scowls, and then Sieg jostles his body as he hauls him up even higher, hides his face in Erhart’s neck, biting and sucking both, and—

His beard scratches Erhart’s skin, but it’s not… as terrible as Erhart thought it’d be, that first time they fucked. It’s well-groomed and washed regularly, and maybe Erhart has gotten just a bit used to it.

Maybe.

Just possibly .

Erhart comes amidst the battering of harsh thrusts against his prostate and hot breaths on his neck, merciless teeth digging patterns under his jaw, spine arching and stomach quivering, legs shaking as his muscles tremble throughout his whole body and his lips part. He gasps, eyes clenched shut, and Sieg just keeps fucking him, chasing his own high. It’s a quietly glorious thing, to be used for Sieg’s pleasure, and Erhart’s heart thumps loudly in his ears, filling him up until it’s all he can hear, gaze hazy and body loose, come cooling on his shirt and prickles of oversensitivity lighting up his spent dick.

Little more than a ragdoll in his arms, Erhart floats in the tight spaces of Sieg’s body, kept safe and warm in his thick arms even as harsh, cold air continues to attack them, ceaseless in its attempt to freeze them to death.

And when Sieg comes, too, Erhart has gotten enough of himself back under control to pat Sieg’s neck, nails scratching at the skin. The way Sieg shudders, spine rolling and breath achingly hot, is more then enough to make Erhart ask, “Again?”

“You fiend,” laughs Sieg into his shoulder, rolling his head and gazing up at Erhart with one eye, the other hidden, and Erhart can’t help wrinkling his nose at the sensation of Sieg’s beard dragging over his skin. “No, you unrepentant man,” says Sieg, blowing hot air into Erhart’s ear just to mess with him. “You have duties, darling. And I don’t much fancy the thought of your mothers murdering me for making you late.”

“Pessimist,” mutters Erhart, and Sieg laughs again, eyes glittering. Erhart can’t maintain eye-contact, is forced to look away lest he melt into a puddle of goo as his heart trips in his chest. And Sieg helps him down, of course, gently patting Erhart when he pulls them apart and Erhart groans, come slides down between his legs. Shushing him, Sieg rubs it off both briskly and softly—somehow—with the rag they nicked from the kitchen just for this, and Erhart magnanimously stands still for it, hands on Sieg’s shoulders.

Stares at him, really.

Finally, Sieg looks up at him, torchlight dancing over his face, the scars and the marks of age, and smiles. “Ready?” he asks, nudging their foreheads together, inadvertently tilting Erhart’s head back, and Erhart inhales until his chest swells with it, hands clinging onto Sieg still. What a fool he is, he thinks.

“For now,” whispers Erhart, and exhales. Flicks his gaze up, shoulders drawing tight, and wets his bruised lips. “I might need a little more reassurance tonight, though.”

Laughing, Sieg brushes Erhart’s hair back from his face, drawing it out of the sweat mess it’s turned into and kisses his cheek, reaching down for his hand. Squeezes it tight, and says a soft, deep, rumbling, “Of course, darling.”

“…Oh, shut up ,” grumbles Erhart, blushing fiercely and stalking off just as such, feet stomping and hand in hand with Sieg.

Erhart’s hand would freeze, if he let go.

Obviously .

Notes:

the reason this is 90% smut is because SSBB is a zine for... erotica? or at least there's gotta be smut in it. but how much smut is enough smut? that's the kind of nebulous thing i can't conceptualize! i don't write erotica normally, i don't know what i'm doing! i don't know where the line is! and i was really scared my submission would be rejected based on 'not enough smut' so i thought 'if i start on the smut then they can't reject it, right??? right?!'

except then i smacked right into the deadline and didn't have time to write anymore, orz.

(i also have a new story just out in SSBB Issue 113; it's 16k words of gay alien romance (stupidity included). it'll come to ao3 at... some point. maybe.)

Comment on SSBB, AO3 or via email.

#Fandom: Original Works #Post Type: Fic #Rating: Explicit #Status: Complete #Tag: NSFW #Tag: Smut #WC: 1000-5000