Chapter Text
“Then it is decided,” announces the blue-quilled king, addressing his knights. “Percival and Galahad will travel north to the lake to visit Lady Nimue and inquire about the artifacts. Gawain and Lamorak will spend a fortnight in the village to the east to guard the townspeople from the bandits. Lancelot and myself shall stay here to welcome the mercenaries from the HillTop Kingdom.”
King Arthur nods with certainty, as if settling the matter then and there with the gesture. “Inform the castle staff and pack thy belongings, and kindly set out before sunset.” The Knights of the Round Table all bowed quickly to him and turned to their errands-
All but one.
“Lancelot...” the king beckons cheerily, turning to address the knight who was at present leaning against the cold stone wall.
“My liege,” the knight returns formally, eyeing Gawain and Lamorak bickering about their coming journey in the corner of the room.
“Kindly assist the others in their preparations while I gather supplies for us.”
“Supplies, my lord?” inquires the knight. “I thought we were staying here.”
“O that we are,” replies the king, patting the dour knight jovially upon the shoulder plate of his armor and causing Lancelot to flinch slightly. “However, it will be at least one week before their arrival, so in the meantime, I’ve devised a test of sorts.” The word “test” attracts the full attention of the black hedgehog, as well as that of the previously arguing echidna and hawk- both of whom had fallen silent.
“Thou see, dear Lancelot, I’ve noticed that our previous training has become rather... stagnant. Surely thou will indulge me in a test of thy stamina while we await our guests’ arrival?” The Knight of the Lake could feel a slight blush crawl across his tan muzzle. Lamorak scoffs.
“My king,” squawks the bird, “Will there be a test waiting for me once we return from the village? I am most certain that Sir Lancelot could not possibly hold a candle to mine own stamina. As thou art well aware I once single-handedly fo-”
“Hold thy tongue, Lamorak,” the king interrupts sternly, his eyes narrowing. “For a knight supposedly so skilled as thyself, methinks thou art oddly fixated on proving thyself when it is not at all necessary.” Lamorak freezes, and a stare-off commences between the nonplussed king and the hot-tempered hawk. “I suggest thou return to thy task as assigned- then I might be more inclined to pay more personal attention to thy feats. Someone who supposedly fought off thirty knights at once should find himself at least some amusement in protecting his kingdom from a notorious group of bandits, would he not?”
Lamorak seethes quietly while Gawain and Lancelot share a rare, short truce to watch the living headache attempt to dress his rebuttal in niceties. The king gives his knights a curt nod before exiting, cutting off any chance for Lamorak to argue further.
“Lamorak, I swear that one of these days His Highness will eventually tire of thy horseshit and send thee packing,” Lancelot sniffs, his gaze still trained out the door where the king was now merrily conversing with a few members of the castle staff, as if he had not had to rebuke one of his strongest knights but moments prior.
“His Lordship hath practically already cast us aside,” spits Gawain. “Lamorak and I have been banished to a three days’ journey off to the east, at least a fortnight spent in town, and then another three days back, all the while ‘Dear Lancelot’ gets to play host with our king to a lot of soldiers of fortune, drinking ale and living comfortably like a spoiled housecat.” His amethyst eyes practically glow with contempt as he beholds his great rival, sneering with sharp fangs bared.
“Not by choice, Gawain,” Lancelot growls lowly, “His Majesty’s orders are absolute, and if thou feels neglected then thou may take it up with His Majesty personally.”
“How can we, pray tell, when his famous shadow is always within arm’s reach?” Lamorak jeers, leering at the hedgehog with an icy stare. Lancelot rolls his eyes and pushes off the wall.
“If thou art quite finished, I do believe ye have some packing to attend to, unless of course Gawain intends to fashion himself an ugly green feather pillow to lay his head upon as soon as he tires of thy shrill voice, Lamorak. Now if thou will excuse me...” the black hedgehog snarls, leaving in search of the far more pleasantly-tempered Percival and Galahad to lend his strength. As much as he hated to admit it, there was some truth to the other knights’ jeering.
Two years ago, Lancelot had hesitantly requested a personal audience with his king. Having never seen the normally imperturbable and fearsome knight in this state, King Arthur tepidly took him out for a simple trek out into the woods so that they could truly speak in private with no prying ears.
While sitting in a flowerfield underneath the stars with his king, Lancelot quietly announced his resignation from the Round Table. Stunned, King Arthur pressed him for a reason, offering the red and black-quilled hedgehog anything and everything just to make his most loyal knight more inclined to stay, but this only caused Lancelot to look ashamed, and to avoid his king’s mournful gaze even further.
Lancelot’s words had been cautious and guarded, and yet the famously compassionate and personable king heard a layer of fear and trepidation behind his careful speech. Both the king and the knight were renowned for their stubbornness, but in the end, the king was able to find the true reason why Lancelot no longer wished to stay in Camelot with his king and the other knights.
Sir Lancelot du Lac, his closest and most trusted knight, had fallen deeply in love with him.
“The love a knight holds for his Master,” Arthur asked, “Or the love one shares with an equal?”
“Both,” Lancelot finally answered, swallowing thickly.
“... Is that all that troubles thee, my knight?” the king asked after the secret was revealed.
“... My lord?” Lancelot whispered, completely floored by the king’s handling of his confession. “I- I am afraid that I do not understand-” he hesitated, knowing that his feelings towards Arthur were most inappropriate for a knight to have for his king. Now that the king knew, he would surely be banished from the kingdom, or worse, he could be put to death.
“O come now Lancelot- thou say this as if I were not already aware of thy feelings,” the king chided gently.
The knight felt positively nauseated at this revelation. His king may be brash and bold- one might even say he seemed almost careless at times- but those who knew him personally knew he was no fool. Assuming him to be one could be a potentially deadly mistake.
Of course he could see right through him. Of course he had caught his stolen stares and had seen through his overprotective nature for what it truly was, especially since they were a relatively recent development. The knight’s change in behavior was very clear to His Majesty:
Lancelot had fallen head over arse for his king.
Every instinct of his screamed at him to flee and never return, however, running would be an absolutely preposterous thing to do. While the knight was the only one who could keep pace with King Arthur, so lovingly called the “Knight of the Wind” by all of Camelot for his godlike speed, the king could easily catch him in an instant and drag him back to the castle to be burned at the stake in front of the entire kingdom.
Before he could consider his options further, Arthur very softly took Lancelot’s hands into his own and caressed them as best he could through their gauntlets. Lancelot looked down, staring closely at their hands clasped together… my, how naturally they fit together, his lecherous heart was sure to point out. How many times had he kissed that very same gauntlet in reverence of the king who had taken him into his court at Lady Nimue’s behest, and had proven his right to the throne to him and the rest of Camelot by saving countless lives without a second thought? How many times had he done this while his king knew of the real reason why he did it?
“Lancelot,” the blue hedgehog called softly. The knight hesitantly lifted his garnet eyes up to his king’s usually-bright emeralds, and was taken aback to see that they were currently clouded in sorrow- itself a rare sight.
“Yes, my king…?” Lancelot murmured.
“Remove thy helmet. I wish to look upon thy face.”
Lancelot dared not hesitate before his king. If he were to escape with any semblance of dignity, he mustn’t show fear...
“Thou art my greatest, most trusted knight, and the bravest man I hath ever met. It absolutely breaks my heart that thou feared that I would even dare try to harm thee over something silly such as this- over anything at all- and it would cause me a great deal more pain if thou were to banish thyself from my kingdom and my court. I want to assure thee that I am not at all upset by thy confession, and more than anything, I wish thee to know that I am exceedingly grateful for all thou hast done for this kingdom and for me personally.”
“... I cherish thy words deeply, my liege,” the knight returned solemnly after a moment’s reprieve, bowing low. There had to be some sort of caveat to this, surely.
“I am not saying this as thy king,” Arthur murmured, squeezing Lancelot’s hands tighter while reaching to pluck a flower blooming beside his knight, “I am saying this as thy friend. If thou must go, then I suppose it is not right of me to stop thee if thou truly feels uncomfortable staying. However, if thou chooses to remain here, by my side, then I hope that I can prove to be the companion thou require.”
The king then reached over and tucked the white flower in his knight’s dark quills.
Lancelot froze, unsure of how to continue. He was absolutely baffled by his king’s words. He had thought his years of service and devotion to the crown were over- he had thought his entire life was over. He hugged his knees, feeling foolish and unable to meet his king’s gaze.
“How long?” he finally asked.
“What?”
“How long hast thou known, my liege?”
The blue hedgehog smiled. He leaned back among the flowers and gazed up at the sky and stars hanging above him and his knight.
“For quite some time, I’m afraid.” Arthur sighed heavily from his nose, looking thoughtful. “For all thy doom and gloom, thou art a dreadful liar.” Lancelot sighed, embarrassed yet relieved that his confession was not being met with a death sentence. “Fear dost not suit thy face, my knight.”
“Nor thine, my king,” he huffed in response.
“Enough of that,” the blue hedgehog waved off amicably. “Thy ‘king’ in court, simply ‘Arthur’ betwixt the two.” He reached for the other’s hand once more, pulling his knight down to lay among the tall wildflowers with him.
“As thou wish, Arthur,” he whispered before his lips were overtaken by the other’s.
The knight smiled behind the kiss and reached for the blue hedgehog’s muzzle to pull him even closer.
The two maintained their forbidden love in secret, with nobody the wiser as to why their king still had no interest in meeting princesses and noblewomen, even if such a marriage would strengthen alliances with neighboring kingdoms. He was attracted to women as well as men, he had admitted freely to Lancelot, though he loathed the idea of being “tethered” to someone for land or for wealth, and the idea of having children made the king’s skin crawl.
A freak accident involving a broken window in the king’s chambers was the perfect excuse to relocate Lancelot’s private chambers to a spare room in the king’s under the guise of “increased protection” in the event of another “attempt on His Majesty’s life.” As the winter became colder, both the king and his lover delighted in the chance to share a bed and hold each other close without Lancelot being questioned about being awake and roaming about the castle so late at night.
Yet here was his treasured companion, years later, being so careless about his more tender feelings for him in front of the rest of the court. Lancelot stops and crosses his arms tighter, scowling at the stone floor as if it too knew of their scandalous relationship as he reflected. Gawain and Lamorak were already particularly mouthy about how Lancelot was favored by their king; he knew he would never hear the end of it if they knew to what extent that favor led to.
Huffing under his breath, the saturnine knight finally turns to go assist the others, vowing to have a few words with His Majesty as soon as they were alone about his clear favoritism and putting their secret in jeopardy.
After dinner, those who were to travel began to take their leave. King Arthur and Sir Lancelot stood at the gates to bid farewell to their companions and wish them luck on their journeys. The king fondly shook hands with all of his parting knights, while his companion held back, glaring daggers into the backs of Lamorak’s and Gawain’s helmets.
“Dear Lancelot, thou seem more sullen and churlish than usual,” chuckles the king once the others were out of earshot. “I did not think it possible. Whatever troubles thee, my knight?”
“I must speak with thee in private, my king.”
“We have all the privacy in the world, Lancelot. Come, let us hear it before we retire upstairs. I have a test waiting for thee, after all.” He winks playfully and turns, causing his long red velvet cape to swirl gracefully with his movements, and he leads his knight back into the castle.
Lancelot inhales sharply through his nose, gathering his thoughts as he strides in step with his king. The two are silent for most of their journey, until they near their destination at the top of the final staircase.
“When was the last time thou sent me on a task as grueling as the other members of the Table, my liege?” Lancelot speaks lowly.
“Come again, my knight?” The king appears befuddled.
“There is unrest among the other knights, Arthur. They can see that thou favors me.”
“But of course I do, my sweet,” the king returns with a teasing grin. Lancelot’s cheeks flush pink with embarrassment; his eyes burn with fury. He abruptly seizes his king’s arm and pulls him into their shared chambers, the sudden movement causing the blue hedgehog’s ornate crown to fall askew on his ear. Instead of fixing it, the king flings it to the side in distaste and hurriedly unties his cape from under his muzzle before casting it aside as well. Lancelot leans on the table beside the fireplace, glowering at his companion before speaking quietly.
“How long until they finally figure us out? As much as they can seem to be, they are not stupid, Arthur. They would not be such high-ranking members of thy court if they were.”
The king sighs, scowling as his normally perky and alert ears fall flat against his sapphire blue quills. He moves to lie back on their secretly-shared bed and stares mournfully at the ceiling.
“Lancelot,” he murmurs, finally breaking the silence, “I apologize for seeming so careless, but if they have a problem with how I treat thee then they may take it up with me. I do cherish thee so,” he whispered, turning to his partner. “Thou must understand how hard it is for me to hide that away. I did not intend to spend these next few weeks causing more sorrow to grow behind those already sad eyes of thine.” The black hedgehog exhales softly, and stands to leave.
“Prithee, my dear Lancelot,” calls the king, simpering when he hears the knight freeze, “why in Chaos’s name art thou sneaking away to thy chambers with thy tail between thy legs? I think thou would find it far more pleasurable if I were between them instead...”
“Typical,” the knight huffs under his breath with a resigning smirk, turning his attention back to his king and striding back to the massive bed to meet his lustful gaze. “We’ve been alone for but a few moments, and yet thou art already eager to pounce on me like a stag in rut.”
“But of course- I know just how to make up for my carelessness, and it would be a crime to let that fat horse’s cock of thine go untouched for a moment longer.” The king sits up, his eyes hungrily traveling over Lancelot’s body once more before grasping him roughly by the hips. “I stowed the shackles away when the bedding was last washed,” he growls lowly in his knight’s ear. “Shall I fetch them again?”
Lancelot flushes scarlet and looks away. Arthur could be… rather brash about his desires on occasions such as this.
Normally the king was the one on the receiving end of their lustful escapades, however once in a blue moon he would be the one to pin Lancelot to the mattress, delighting in the desperate, lascivious noises the most feared knight in his court would make as he took him roughly.
The blue-quilled hedgehog was the only one who could best Lancelot in battle, the only one he knelt for; it strangely felt right- enticing, even, to roll over and present himself if his king so desired to indulge in his body, especially after a particularly rough sparring match. Neither hedgehog pulled their punches.
“I shall retrieve them,” Lancelot says firmly before turning his attention to the chest where the king kept his more salacious tools. Arthur smirks, rolling over to stretch out over the warm jackal pelt strewn over their bedding, and listens intently to Lancelot dig through their collection. Lancelot stops when he notices a new bottle, wrapped in a silk pouch, and the king seems to notice his hesitation.
“I thought thou might be a bit tired of olive oil. The apothecary recommended something a little more suited to our needs.”
“Did they pry about it?” Lancelot asks hesitantly, looking over his shoulder. “A notoriously unmarried king asking about lubricant for such a crass and carnal purpose is practically begging for a kingdom-wide scandal.”
The king scoffs at this notion.
“They believe me to have bed servants. Thou needn’t worry.”
“Dost thy ‘test of stamina’ hath anything to do with thou sending the other knights away on several days’ journeys?” Lancelot asks, making his way back to the bed with the requested items. The king takes no time in yanking his knight over by his crimson tunic, pulling it over his inky black quills and casting it aside before pressing a ravenous kiss to his lips.
“Lie down,” he growls softly, gesturing to their bed with a nod. The knight obliges without a second thought, his cheeks reddening once more as Arthur promptly pins him against the plush mattress, his hunger for the other clearly visible in his eyes.
“As for thy question,” the king murmurs, straddling his captive and moving to restrain him against the bedpost, “I saw an opportunity and decided to take it. After all, we would not want to wake the entire castle with thou squealing like a whore, wouldn’t thou agree? I merely wish to watch those pretty eyes of thine roll back in thy head and listen to thee cry out in rapture without us being so rudely interrupted,” he purrs, gently pressing kisses along Lancelot’s jaw.
“Thou would not dare deny me the pleasure of watching thee come undone under my touch, would thee?” The knight shivers under his lover’s caress and attempts to steady his breathing, finding it so much harder to remain calm when his normally jovial and almost juvenile king looked at him with such a sinful gaze. He nuzzles against his companion’s plush sapphire quills tenderly, unable to embrace the other as he normally would with his arms bound.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” he whispers, the words hanging delicately in the air between them. The king lets out a pleased hum at his partner’s rare open admittance of his fondness for him before pulling back to admire his prize, whose muzzle and ears are flushed beautifully in the light of the fireplace.
“What in Chaos’s name hath I done to deserve a companion such as thyself, my beloved?” Arthur murmurs, leaning forward to kiss his bound lover once more.
“My king,” Lancelot sighs between kisses, “After all this time, thou must know by now that I cannot help but be drawn to thy warmth and comfort, thy strength and compassion. Pray tell, what have I done to deserve to be cosseted such as this, by mine own cherished king?”
Arthur delicately runs his tongue over his companion’s lips, asking for entrance that he is quickly given, and delights in his lover’s taste before pulling back slightly and resting his forehead against his knight’s.
“My world, I would indulge thee in any desire that could possibly cross thy mind if only thou remained by my side.” He pulls back to meet his lover’s gaze. “Now then, what shall we start with?”
“With whatever thou craves, Arthur,” Lancelot huffs. “Thou art not the one bound to the bedpost.”
“So I am not,” the blue hedgehog snorts, his eyes boldly trailing down Lancelot’s body with hunger. “Thou hast always had such a beautiful body…” he comments idly, running his ungloved hands over the knight’s stomach and stroking the silky white fur on his chest. The black hedgehog swallows, willing himself to relax under his king’s gentle touch.
The king draws his own knees under himself and presses his knight’s thighs back. He boldly begins to fondle the quickly-hardening pouch between his captive’s legs, and a dry smile spreads across the black hedgehog’s muzzle when the king picks up the vial of lubricant.
“Thou certainly art not wasting any time,” the bound hedgehog huffs playfully. He sharply sucks in a breath as he feels two wet, familiar fingers delicately trace around his entrance.
“Art thou complaining?” asks the king before gently pressing a finger inside. Lancelot hisses as he feels the cold finger breech, earning a chuckle from the blue hedgehog. “Thy arsehole certainly is not. Such a greedy little cunt thou hast, dear Lancelot- it’s practically swallowed my finger whole in no time at all!” He pulls the finger slightly to the side before inserting the other one, causing another squeak to fall from the knight’s lips.
“There we are,” the king murmurs softly once the knight’s member slowly began to peek out of its pouch. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of his lover as Lancelot groans sensuously and eagerly rolls his hips in time to meet with the invading digits. The blue hedgehog twists the two fingers together, watching gleefully as it stretches his captive apart. “Now where was…” he hums teasingly, curling his fingers and beginning to search around while Lancelot keens. The black hedgehog lets out a loud, brazen cry once his lover’s fingers find his prostate.
“Right there?” the king grins. Lancelot shuts his eyes tight, laying his head back on the pillows, and nods quickly, knowing what was coming. The blue hedgehog presses at that spot once more, this time while running his tongue up the length of his lover’s now-exposed cock. The knight gasps, trying in vain to maintain his composure, but his king was well-versed in exactly what to do to drive his knight mad with pleasure.
“A-Arthur-” the black hedgehog groans, looking down at his partner sucking him off. The king closes his eyes and hums, knowing why his lover wanted his attention and instead chooses to take his captive’s cock fully in his mouth and suck firmly.
“Ffffffuuuuuck- Arthur, please- I cannot last like this…”
“I do not wish for thee to last, Lancelot- I want to hear that beautiful voice of thine wail,” the blue hedgehog replies gleefully, pulling back for air before swallowing his lover’s member down once more. “Thou art always so dour and fearsome - so very cross,” he teases as his knight groans, “and yet thou make such a pretty face whenever I play with thee...”
“My king, please, I- fuck, I- agh…” Another firm stroke to that sensitive bundle of nerves makes it impossible for Lancelot to think clearly anymore. He clings to the shackles and his sanity as the blue hedgehog sucks at his cock with fervor. It all feels far too good and soon enough the pleasure overtakes his mind completely and he feels the tension in his abdomen snap. The king, who could feel the twitching and straining of his captive’s swollen member in his mouth, manages to correctly gauge when his lover would reach his peak and pulls back just in time to give his knight’s member a few quick pumps, causing the black hedgehog to messily climax onto his own chest.
Lancelot collapses back onto the mattress, catching his breath as he watches his king suddenly rise and make his way over to the chest in the corner. Arthur had to be painfully hard by this point- what in God’s name could he possibly be searching for? He’d gladly return the favor for his lover if only he released him from his chains.
“Arthur, is this ‘test of stamina’ thou hast so eagerly devised merely a chance to see how long it takes before I fall asleep in this position?”
The king snorts crassly, and eyes the black-quilled hedgehog with lust once more.
“Oh Lancelot, thou truly cannot fathom what I want from thee, dost thou?” he asks, apparently having found what he needed and returning to the bed. His captive attempts to see what his king has behind his back, and the king presents a large, polished stone plug before darkly chuckling, “The test is to see how many times I can make thou climax before thou goes mad.”
Lancelot’s eyes go wide as the blue hedgehog reaches for the vial of oil on the nightstand. “Is that a challenge, my lord?” he asks, with an excited glint in his eye.
“But of course, my beloved. Thou knows I dost so adore thy competitive nature. Would thou be so kind as to demonstrate thine abilities for thy king?”
“Only if my king might use thy strong hand to assist me in performing at my best,” Lancelot purrs lowly, watching closely as his partner coats the tool in oil. “After all, I might find it difficult without.”
Arthur lifts the black hedgehog’s thighs slightly before he presses the stone plug teasingly around the puckered ring of muscle, drizzling more of the oil over both Lancelot’s entrance and the toy itself before returning the vial to his nightstand. The knight gasps sharply, digging his claws into the pillow as Arthur presses in and out more firmly, finally allowing the toy to breech until it goes in with only soft whimpers from the recipient. Lancelot sucks on his teeth and pants lightly as he becomes accustomed to both the icy material and the sensation of being full, while Arthur soothingly massages his thighs.
“Art thou alright, my pet?” the king whispers lightly, his wild grin growing wider when Lancelot enthusiastically nods in response despite the teasing nickname, the knight’s eyes dazed in pleasure. “Good,” he murmurs, gently twisting the toy to earn a few more disoriented mewls from Lancelot, whose previously-spent member was already beginning to harden once more. The king admired his lover’s beautifully flushed face before gently tugging back on the stone toy. His captive’s groans steadily became louder as he begins to pull more harshly, earning him a low whine from the knight.
“Too mu-”
“No,” Lancelot gasps. “Keep- keep going...”
Keeping an eye on his lover’s face to gauge whether he was in serious pain, the king pulls harder on the stone toy, watching Lancelot’s face contort with a twisted mix of pain and pleasure as an increasingly loud “fuckfuckfuckfuCKFUCKFUCKFUCK” tumbles uncontrollably from his lips until the toy is removed completely with a loud “POP!”, causing lubricant to leak down to his tail. The blue hedgehog smirks wickedly and he stuffs it back inside, wanting the knight truly distracted before he reached for his lover’s still-sensitive member once more.
Lancelot shuts his eyes tightly and bites his lip, reveling in the sensations his partner was indulging him in. At this point, the other knights could eat shit for all he cared. His lover was far too proficient at this for him to be upset for long. He lets out a loud, satyric groan as he feels Arthur’s skilled tongue travel up his member once again, and before long the king begins pumping it in his slick hand.
Far too quickly he feels the warmth in his groin swell once more before he is overtaken by intense spasms. A second overwhelming wave of pleasure crashes over his entire body as Arthur continues to pump his member roughly, causing him to paint his fur in another splash of creamy white as he howls.
“That was faster than I could have guessed!” Arthur purrs, giving a few more strokes to his captive’s twitching cock before tenderly squeezing Lancelot’s cramping thighs. “Is it truly that sensitive? That was only the second!” The knight nods tiredly, his head still buzzing with pleasure as the dreaded ache already begins to set in.
Truth be told, two was far more exhausting than he could have dreamed. How could he possibly survive a third or even fourth if his king so desired? He supposed he’d just have to find out- the two were notoriously competitive, and of course Arthur had just found another avenue to compete in with his favorite sparring partner. Once he got the chance, there was no doubt in Lancelot’s mind that the blue hedgehog would want the same done to him as well.
The king hums thoughtfully, looking pleased with his work so far and the mess he had made of his usually so-stoic knight.
“I want at least one mo-”
“Anything for thee, my love,” Lancelot murmurs without a second thought.
“My sweet, thou doth spoil me so,” the king asserts, taken aback as he reached for the vial one last time to lather his own straining member in oil, “however, if thou art too tender to indulge me in this-”
“Not at all, my king,” the black hedgehog pants, slowly shaking his head against the pillows.
“Lancelot-” Arthur starts, voice soft yet firm all at once.
“Arthur, stop with thy coddling and just fuck me already,” the knight snarls lowly, his merlot-colored eyes beginning to refocus sharply.
So it was like that, then? the king realizes.
Needing no further convincing, a much darker smirk grows across the king’s muzzle as he makes his way closer to his captive. He presses Lancelot’s thighs back, black-furred knees almost reaching the mattress.
“Hold,” he growls, pressing them forward. “For Chaos’s sakes Lancelot, I know thou art far more flexible than that. Hold.” Lancelot reaches languidly with his bound hands and grasps behind his knees, feeling the cramping muscles in his thighs tremble. Running his tongue over Lancelot’s sensitive member, the king lightly taps at his knight’s abused entrance with his thumb, teasing and testing the pliancy of the ring of muscle.
“Fffffuuuuuuck- Arthur please…” the black hedgehog gasps breathlessly, shuddering under His Majesty’s lecherous tongue. The king huffs playfully, giving Lancelot’s tail a slight tug before finally positioning himself and gently prodding at the knight’s entrance with his painfully hard member.
“Thou art curiously demanding tonight for someone in thy position,” the blue hedgehog comments dryly. He presses forward as Lancelot inhales sharply through his nose, relishing in the familiar stretch and willing his muscles to relax. Hitting a bit of resistance on the way in, the king pulls back before pressing on once more with a low groan, grasping Lancelot’s hips as he eases himself inside.
The black hedgehog chokes on a gasp, feeling his lover fully sheathe himself inside before letting out a low, pleased groan. The blue hedgehog atop him, his emerald eyes hazy with lust, struggles to keep his breath steady but awaited Lancelot’s unspoken permission before losing himself completely and giving his captive the fucking they both so thoroughly desired.
Shortly, Lancelot releases his grip on his thighs, which were beginning to ache even more from the strain. His legs come down over his king’s hips and he crosses them tightly behind his back, allowing the blue hedgehog to take him even deeper. Arthur licks his way into the black hedgehog’s mouth once more, far more roughly than before, and begins moving his hips at a steady pace.
It was already far too much- Lancelot was dizzy and exhausted beyond belief, his king’s firm grip the only thing keeping him in position as he penetrated him thickly and fully. The knight’s usually pitch-black fur was tacky with his previous releases, and he was eternally grateful that the cold winter’s air was keeping them from getting uncomfortably sweaty.
“My love,” Arthur gasps between thrusts, slowing his pace slightly, “thou art awfully quiet. What can I do to hear that heavenly voice of thine once more?”
“I- m-my lord,” Lancelot pants, “I find it quite- hngh- difficult to think- clearly in my- fuuuuuuuuck ” he groans, jaw going slack as a thrust grazes his prostate, “sit- sit-uation...”
The king chuckles lowly at this, reveling in the sight of the famed Lancelot du Lac- cunning, deadly, and notoriously ill-tempered, and now so flustered and breathless while impaled on his cock.
“I suppose that was part of my plan. However,” he pauses, drawing back slightly and stalling his hips before caressing Lancelot’s flushed cheek with a clawed hand, “is there anything at all that thou require?” The black hedgehog swallows thickly, savoring this reprieve for a brief moment before turning his attention back to his lover.
“My legs ache in this position, Arthur. Could we perhaps-“
“Say no more,” the blue hedgehog nods, releasing the shackles at once and giving Lancelot room to roll over and position himself more comfortably. “But don’t thou dare bury thy face in that pillow,” he purrs, playfully flicking his knight’s tail.
Curiously, Lancelot reaches for the shackles and begins to reaffix them around his already-sore wrists.
“Thou haven’t had enough punishment, my pet?” Arthur teases, adjusting them both to be just a touch tighter before running his fingers soothingly through Lancelot’s disheveled black and crimson red quills.
“Punishment?” Lancelot huffs with a weary yet crazed grin, “I dare say I feel quite spoiled by this treatment. However...” he intentionally trails off, turning back to behold his king and his aching hard-on.
“However?” the blue hedgehog pries, ghosting his fingers from the underside of the knight’s tail to his abused entrance.
“I am quite unsure if his lordship has the power to bring me to climax one last time…” the knight murmurs with a teasing, lustful glint in his eye.
“Is that a challenge, my knight?” the king purrs, gleefully lathering his member with more oil. “Because I know I could tear at least one more out of thee if I so desired.”
With no further words Arthur roughly thrusts himself back inside, causing Lancelot to cry out in pain and pleasure. The blue hedgehog digs his claws into his knight’s hips and grasps handfuls of his inky black fur.
“Thou really should- hold thy tongue- dear... Lancelot...” the king pants, pressing his chest flush with the other hedgehog’s back to growl lowly in his ear. “It will be thy undoing.” Lancelot lets out another carnal gasp as his king finds his prostate once more. Arthur laughs at this discovery, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot more directly.
“Why was it thou were so displeased with me when thou came to bed? Because I play favorites with my court? Cruel Lancelot, thou doth vex me so,” he jeers, yanking the knight’s tail to the side, causing Lancelot to cry out once more. “If thou art so ungrateful for his king’s treatment, then perhaps I should keep thee chained under the Round Table, where thou can suckle at my cock until thou learn thy place!” Lancelot whimpers softly, desperately trying not to go limp.
“One must wonder what the other knights think of thee,” the king snarls mockingly, pulling back to take a handful of red and black quills while pressing down on the knight’s back with his other hand, “‘Prithee, what must it be like to be the famed Sir Lancelot? Doth thou just envy his position, staying behind at Camelot at the behest of our king?’ Little do they know thou art in his bedchamber, bound to his bed posts, taking his Master’s cock like a fucking champion!”
Arthur snaps his hips faster, relentlessly hammering away at his knight’s prostate as Lancelot howls. That familiar sensation of him reaching his peak is tightening in his abdomen, but it is merely just another part of his body screaming vulgarly at his current predicament. He needs it all to stop so he can think clearly, but his lecherous body craved that sweet release he knew the king could give.
“Perhaps thou should demonstrate to the others what true loyalty to thy king is- bent over thy master’s bed with my seed leaking out of thy freshly-fucked arsecunt for all to see!”
“M-my liege-” Lancelot gasps desperately.
“Speak up,” the king groans, his breaths coming quicker. “Thou cannot possibly be cumming again so quickly.”
“I- I am, my love…” Behind his lover’s harsh words, Lancelot keenly detects the blue hedgehog’s pace quickening and his voice faltering slightly with pleasure. There was no way he was very far behind.
“Greedy fucking Lancelot," the blue hedgehog snarls, “was two simply not enough for thee? Thou grouses about being spoiled and then begs thy king for more!” The knight digs his sharp canines into the pillow, hopelessly trying to muffle his howls until Arthur grabs another handful of his quills and growls lowly in his ear.
“Get--thy face--out--of the pillow,” he snarls. “If thou- art going to beg—for me to allow thee—another release, then- I want--to hear- every damned word--!”
“Plea-please… FUCK-” the black hedgehog chokes, “Please my- lord-- have m-mercy--may I please come- for you- my love--”
“Then let’s have it, then!” Arthur roars, reaching around to pump Lancelot mercilessly. It was all far too intense- he already ached and his king’s relentless assault on his prostate made the tightening in his abdomen cramp inexorably. Lancelot can hear the king shout at him to come somewhere in the back of his mind, but everything was far too foggy to properly register. The blue hedgehog’s grip on his cock practically stings but he could feel his release so, so very close. He just needs a little more friction, a little more time before-
“ACK- MOther of FUCK--!” Lancelot screeches, his muscles convulsing as his orgasm violently ripped through him. Suddenly, Arthur stops his assault on his backside and pulls out harshly, pumping himself while pulling the knight’s face to the side and releasing himself upon it. The black hedgehog shuts his eyes and hesitantly opens his mouth to pant as his king paints his face and muzzle in ropes of pearly white. The king’s chambers fall quiet, save for the crackling of the dying fire and the hoarse panting of the two exhausted hedgehogs.
The king snorts tiredly at the sight of his lover, breaking the silence.
“I see now why they call thee ‘The White Knight.’”
Lancelot rolls his eyes in response.
“Art thou alright, my love?” the blue hedgehog asks his mate.
“Arthur…” Lancelot murmurs, eyes slowly returning to focus, “there never were any mercenaries to begin with, were there?”
“My dearest Lancelot, thou art draped handsomely across the pelt of the only mercenary to come through this kingdom in years. I would like to keep it that way.” The king withdrew with a purr, though not before stroking his thoroughly spent knight’s muzzle with a soft, affectionate hand. “Come, I had the staff draw a bath before we started. We wouldn’t want that lovely fur of thine to mat, would we?”
The knight huffs under his breath and gives a tired smirk as Arthur offered him a hand up. He plants a firm kiss on his king’s lips once he sat up, accepting his offer to carry him.
“Next time,” the black hedgehog groans, “it shall be thee who is chained to this bed.”
“I would be deeply disappointed if we spent these next few weeks to ourselves without thou getting thy revenge,” Arthur chuckles softly, poking his nose through his charge’s quills as he gently cradles him in his arms. “In fact, thou will forgive me if I admit that I was quite looking forward to riding thy cock if we had gone another round.”
“My lord, there is nothing left for thee to ride…” Lancelot grumbles miserably. The king snickers tiredly and carries his lover over to the adjacent bath hall.
The servants had filled the entire pool-like bath with scalding hot water less than an hour ago, and it had since cooled to a more pleasant temperature. The king maneuvers his exhausted lover to wrap his black legs around his own blue hips and slowly makes his way down the steps into the water. The knight folds his arms around his king’s neck and settled comfortably in his lap once the blue hedgehog seats himself on the bench under the water.
Lancelot welcomes the warm bathwater on his aching muscles, and arches his back slightly to scrub the dried remains of their previous activities out of his fur. The blue hedgehog tenderly licks behind his ear, smoothing down a tuft of bent fur before affectionately reaching out for his companion’s cheek once more, gazing solemnly into his eyes.
“Lancelot, how would thou feel about running away with me?”