Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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A bard with flushed cheeks and wine-wet lips. Henry never meant to stray, tried his best not to. But fire needs only one spark.
Series
- Part 1 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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Henry tries to resist the ache. But once he had tasted desire, the fire within him burns, hungry. A certain hired hand draws him in. Will they burn together?
This work is a part of a series, chapters can be read independently as oneshots, but they form a chronological story.
Series
- Part 2 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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“Come on, Henry! I’ve spent all night taking care of that piss-head, and didn’t get the chance to greet a single girl. A wedding without a proper hump? It’s like a nightwatch without a torch. Cold, long, lonely, and you might as well sleep through it!”
“If anyone’s meant to have a hump tonight, it’s your sister and Olda. Not you and some poor wine-soaked maid.”
“Oi! Keep my sister out of your mouth!” Svatya shoved him playfully. It still caused Henry to stumble half a step back. If it was the wine or the guards inability to measure his strength, he wasn’t sure. “Also I veme—veve? vene... vehemently disagree. If I’m to head back out there and talk to those stuck up noble pricks and be all polite and shit, I need a thorough fuck beforehand. Otherwise I might get into another brawl and my sister will never let me hear the end of it.”
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- Part 3 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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“Let me have you.” Gules said again, softer now. He kissed his way down Henry’s throat and across his collarbone, mouth dragging across hot skin. Henry didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was still fighting. So instead, he moved. Arching his hips up, grinding against Gules. The friction hit just right.
Gules groaned low. “You’re the stronger dog, Henry,” he murmured, dragging his beard against Henry’s neck, tickling the skin just enough to make him flinch. “Still... let me fuck you.”
Series
- Part 4 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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“Yield,” Henry growled.
Bartosch gasped, lips parting. The grip on his hair was tight, painful, the man didn’t recognise his strength though the gauntlets. His knee stung against the dirt and his breath caught in his throat as he looked up. Henry’s face loomed over him, unreadable.
“I yield,” he whispered between shaky breaths, quiet like a confession. His tone betrayed the sudden rush of desire that seized him. Want was thrumming in his veins, bleeding into his words.
Henry noticed the shift, the bare need that seeped from the admission. The hand in his hair hitched, the way his eyes searched his face, lingering on his lips. Henry’s grip did not relent. He ought to; their duel was concluded. But he was reluctant to release his prize from his grasp. And that, Bartosch realised, was an admission in and of itself.
Series
- Part 5 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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“I see the burden you carry,” Henry whispered, leaning down so his breath ghosted over Voyta’s lips. “The pain, the loss,” he continued, eyes flickering around the painter’s face as his breath hitched. “the guilt, the longing,” his thumb traced over Voyta’s bottom lip, still wet. “It never leaves, doesn’t it?”
Voyta’s shoulders quivered. “Please—I prayed. I prayed for it to leave.”
At the confession, Henry dragged him closer. “Let me take it away.” Voyta’s eyes widened at the words. Henry’s own heart thrashed wildly against his ribs. “Pour it all in me,” he breathed, leaning in for another kiss. “Cleanse yourself in me.”
Series
- Part 6 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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Henry is trying to be good. Good for his lord. Good in the eyes of God.
But hunger doesn’t fade with prayer. It grows. It festers. He tries to feed it elsewhere. Tame it.
Capon was never meant to see. But he does. And once he does, he can’t stop wanting.
Series
- Part 7 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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“Můžu tě políbit (May I kiss you).” Jasak repeated after Henry, grinning sheepishly as the foreign words tumbled clumsily through his lips. The combination was absolutely disarming. The warmth in Henry’s chest surged, spreading throughout his body, to his cheeks, hands, and lower through his belly.
“Mit tanítasz nekem, hogy így elpirulsz tőle? (What are you teaching me that makes you blush like that?)” Jasak smirked. “Můžu tě políbit. Co to? (May I kiss you. What is it?)”
“Oh, it means that…” Henry suddenly panicked, completely at a loss of how to show Jasak what he taught him without doing something... stupid.
Series
- Part 8 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody
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Sneaking with a horse out of the Trosky proved a challenge. One cannot simply explain to a horse to breathe quietly. The soft snorts soon roused the guards, and Henry could only grip his sword as he prepared to try and fight his way out.
"There he is!" A guard holding a torch exclaimed as soon as he appeared in the stable doors. More soldiers pooled around the doors, cornering the intruder.
"So what do we have here?" A familiar, gruff voice carried through the corridor like a bell toll. Henry remembered it as a saving grace, once, as his Lord's neck had a noose hanging around it. Captain Thomas walked into the stables, step sure, armour gleaming, presence larger than life. His soldiers dutifully stood up straight and nodded towards their commander as he entered.
"This one has been sneaking into the stables," one of the soldiers reported, reaching for Henry to drag him forward. Henry went willingly, letting a different guard tear the sword out of his hands. A gleaming light flickered in Thomas' eyes.
"Isn't it Lord Capon's page?" one of the soldiers squinted.
"Let's see if that's true," the Captain murmured.
Series
- Part 9 of Henry's Bohemian Rhapsody