Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Within a few days, Suchdol mostly returns to normal. With food and without the constant threat they'd been living under, it becomes easy to fall into the routines people were used to.

But it's not without constant reminders. Melancholy hangs over the fortress. Good people died during the siege, and some may yet join them, despite the efforts Katherine and Musa have expended to save every soul they could. More than one person weeps a little at meals, still overwhelmed by having so much after going so long with so little. The bodies buried only days ago are moved, taken to be properly interred in consecrated ground.

Hans thinks he perhaps should have helped with that, but he cannot bring himself to. And Henry, normally to eager to make himself helpful with a task, also doesn't assist. He doesn't think anyone judges them for it. It's grim, awful work, and Henry is responsible for their liberation. No one will begrudge him sparing himself that horror. And Hans reaps the benefit of his title. That kind of work is not fit for a lord. They do help with clearing debris, and that satisfies Hans that he's given enough back. He doesn't want to linger here.

Nor does Peter want them to around any longer either. As soon as things are settled enough that his own people can manage on their own, he begins to make noises that would like to see them all depart. He won't be so rude as to throw them out, but he wants them gone. Hans cannot blame him. Peter paid a very high cost for his allegiance, and very nearly paid the ultimate one. To say they've outstayed their welcome would be an understatement of gargantuan proportions. If Hans were in his position, he would want them all gone as soon as possible.

So they will leave on the morrow.

He doesn't know or care where the rest of them decide to go. He knows Zizka and Dry Devil intend to continue their campaign against Sigismund's supporters, and he assumes the rest of the pack will do as they've done before and follow along with them. As for he and Henry, however….

"Where shall we go?" he asks as they tuck into bed that last night.

"Wherever you want." Henry pulls him close, tucking their bodies together despite the heat from the day that leaves the room far too warm.

They've abandoned all pretense since the siege was lifted. Hans genuinely, truly does not care what anyone thinks of him. Maybe someday he will. Perhaps years down the road he'll look back at how he behaved during these fleeting, precious days and be ashamed of his behavior, but he can't see how. This is all he wants, and he cannot keep it, but he will hold it between clenched fists until it is torn from him.

"I asked you," Hans grouses. "I don't care where it is, as long as it's not here or Rattay. We can find a shack in the woods for all I care."

He feels Henry smile, lips curving against his skin. "I think we can do a bit better than that. Let's go to Kuttenberg."

The memories of what happened the last two times they were there resurface, visceral and sharp. "Are you sure?"

Henry pauses for a moment and then breathes deep. "Yeah. Spent some time there while I was trying to find out how to get to you, and when people aren't trying to kill you, it's quite nice." His hand flexes on Hans's belly. "Plenty of people to get lost in, no one to know or notice us."

The unspoken words hang in the air between them. They can pretend, can live the way they want to with no one to judge or look at them sideways. They can be together.

"Let's," he agrees. "Whatever coin Hanush has left for me should be more than enough."

"Father will help, too," Henry adds.

Henry and Radzig have spoken a few times over the last several days. Henry hasn't shared the entirety of their conversations, but he's revealed enough to know that Radzig is far more understanding than Hanush had been. It helps to know that someone else doesn't judge them for what's happened.

In the morning, they pack what little they have, mostly changes of clothing aside from their armor and weapons. It wasn't like they'd accumulated much throughout their trials. He knows that Sam is going to return to Kuttenberg and see if anything could be salvaged from the Jewish Quarter before he returns to Kolin, so he imagines they can ride there together.

But as they head down to saddle their horses, they find not just him, but a cluster of men waiting. Sam, yes, but Godwin alongside him, as well as Janosh and Adder. Their horses are saddled and waiting nearby. His steps slow as he gets close. "What's this?"

Godwin looks between him and Henry. "Sir Radzig asked me to accompany you, wherever you're going."

"Ah." Hans smiles tightly. "We're to have a chaperone, are we?"

Godwin shakes his head, smiling a little. "Not at all. I don't want to be within 300 yards of where you decide to bed down for the night." His smile turns a little chagrined. "Had quite enough of that, actually."

Clearing his throat, Henry nods. "Right. So not a chaperone then?"

"No. Sir Radzig simply wants someone nearby in case anything happens, considering what happened the last time he let you two go off."

Hans's cheeks warm faintly. "Understandable, I suppose." He shifts his gaze to the other two. "And you?"

"We go with you," Janosh says. "Unless you not want us."

"No, I didn't say that. But…why? Don't Zizka and Dry Devil need you?"

"Fuck them," Adder says blithely. "Henry save me from the noose, you save me the French cunt. I think we safer with you."

Next to him, Henry laughs a little. "You don't owe us. Not anymore."

But Janosh shakes his head and claps him on the arm. "Like Adder say, safer with you."

"Well, then in that case…." He shrugs. "Why not? The more the merrier, as they say."

He'd been looking forward to time alone with Henry, and a group of four other men accompanying them wasn't in his plans, but he doesn't think the others intend to hound their every step. It feels strange, though, to have men switch their fealty like this. And he's not sure how far it extends. Is this just temporary until they decide what they wish to do, or do they intend to remain with them even after they return to Rattay?

He shakes his head. It's not a question that needs to be dealt with now. Instead he turns his focus to saddling Caballus, checking with Henry to make sure they have provisions for the short trip to the city.

As they're finishing up, Radzig joins them, watching quietly from the side until they're ready. Then he steps forward. He hands Hans a sizeable pouch, heavy, clinking with groschen when he takes it. He hands another pouch to Henry, this one smaller. "I don't know how long you will have, but I expect this will carry you through. However, if you find yourselves in need of more, send word. I will see you provided for."

"Thank you," Henry says. His words are quiet, solemn, and Hans knows he means them for more than just the money.

"I wish I could do more," Radzig says, and then he pulls Henry into a tight embrace. He murmurs something in Henry's ear, too quiet for Hans to hear, and he sees Henry nod. When they pull back, Hans is shocked to find himself pulled into Radzig's embrace as well.

"I-what?" he gasps.

"Take care of him," is all Radzig says.

"O-Of course."

With a final squeeze, Radzig steps back, gives them each a look and nod, and then moves farther away, giving them space to mount. They do so, the horses dancing under them as they settle, just as eager to set out and on the road after their own forced confinement. Those working outside call out their farewells as they ride, and Hans doesn't begrudge that they're mostly aimed at Henry. He deserves these accolades and so much more.

Hans wants nothing more than to touch his heels to Caballus's flanks and give him his head, but he holds himself back. The exercise the horses had been able to get had been meager at best, and he has no wish to risk injury. The horses fairly dance under them, though, eager as well to stretch their legs and oncde they've walked for a bit, and the road ahead is clear and smooth, Hans eases up and doesn't rein Caballus back the next time he begins to pick up his pace.

Wind rushes past his face and he laughs. He is alive, he is free, and as he hears Pebbles come up behind him, he is no longer alone.

As a whole, the group is quiet as they ride, though Adder chatters as they pass other travelers and given Janosh's laughing replies, he has no doubt on exactly what Adder is commenting on.

"Gonna have to keep an eye on him," Henry says quietly. "Kuttenberg has two bathhouses."

Two? Hans perks up. A good scrub and soak sound exactly like what he needs. "Let Janosh and Godwin worry about that. Now, two bathhouses, you say?"

Henry laughs, teeth white against his beard that's growing back in. Hans wonders if maybe Henry will keep it this time. It does suit him. All it needs is a bit of shaping. "Aye, though I am partial to one, so maybe we can direct Adder toward the other."

That has Hans's brows rising toward his hairline. "Wait, what's this? You're partial to one?"

It's faint, but Henry's cheeks pink.

"Oh!" Hans perks up in the saddle, nudges Caballus closer. "You have to tell me. I simply must hear this."

"It's not that interesting of a story, really." When Hans shows no sign of dropping it, he sighs. "When I went to Kuttenberg the first time, trying to find out where you'd been taken, it took a while to find Sir John and to get the information I needed. I did a few things in the city while I was waiting. One of them was helping Betty—that's the owner—get her bathhouse up and running."

"And how exactly did you do that?"

The blush on Henry's face darkens. "Wasn't much, really. Helped a couple of her girls get to the city. And then, uh, announced it when it was open?"

"Announced it?" Hans cannot help the snicker that bursts out. "Like a town crier?"

"I was just helpin' out!" Henry protests, though he does laugh a little, too. "Thought I cocked it up because no one showed up for the longest time, and then half the city came pouring in at once! Had to help get the place cleaned up in the morning, too, when a council member showed up. I think I was still a little drunk, but we got it done and Betty got to keep the place open."

Hans can feel his smile slip a little. "So you had a good night then, eh?" Cursing himself a little once his mouth shuts, he shakes his head. He has no right to be upset. To be jealous. He knows now that Henry had already loved him then, that whatever might have happened that night was nothing he hadn't already done. And he was free to do so! They'd made no promises to one another yet.

"Nothing happened." Henry's words are quiet. "I had too much to drink. I danced with the girls. It was fun, but nothing else happened." His hand reaches out, touches Hans on the arm. "And I didn't know about what was happening in Maleshov. I didn't mean to act like that when you were suffering."

"No." Hans sets his hand atop Henry's arm. "You have nothing to apologize for, so I won't hear it. I imagine from the timing of it all, I was still drinking wine and suffering Brabant's stories. I am glad that you were able to do that. Heartily glad. And even if you had enjoyed yourself in other ways, I had no claim upon your person. Not then."

"I was already yours." Henry tightens his hand, squeezing firmly, muscles in his hand flexing under Hans's touch. "I had fun, yes, but no desire for anything more than that. And now that I have you, nothing else can compare."

It's a heady thing, such devotion. He would feel entirely unworthy of it if he did not feel the exact same thing for Henry.

"And that's why you're so partial then?"

"Well, that and the fact that it's free."

"Free?" Hans perks up. "Every time you go?"

"Aye. I think it's a bit much, but Betty won't take my money. Still give the girls a little something though."

Hans laughs. "I think I can overlook your penchant for doing favors for everyone if they all came with such benefits."

Henry hums thoughtfully. "Maybe Betty will give you a discount."

"A discount?" Hans looks over sharply. "What?"

"Well, it's free for me. I did all the hard work while you were drinking von Bergow's wine with Brabant."

"Given a choice between the two, I think I'd rather have assisted you."

"Somehow, I can't see you scrambling around to clean up after drunken revelers."

"Of course not," Hans scoffs. "I'd have been the one entertaining pretty maids as I escorted them to the city."

"Why am I not surprised?" Henry shakes his head, but he's grinning. "And I'm teasing. Betty won't charge you as long as you're with me, I don't think."

"Ah, I see. You probably think that will stop me from going every day then." He pats Henry's hand and then straightens, lifting his chin. "Never fear. I will find a way to ensure we're both in need of daily baths."

Behind them, there's a choked off noise that sounds an awful lot like Godwin, and a foreign curse that's most definitely Sam. Hans doesn't turn back around. They are all very aware of exactly what he and Henry are going to be getting up to. No sense beating around bush about it.

It's afternoon when Kuttenberg comes into sight, and Hans is reminded very much of when he saw Trosky castle rising above the treeline. It's a city, a proper city—though he knows there are far greater ones out there—and it strikes him at how impressive it all is. Just as Trosky had made Pirkstein seem small, Kuttenberg does the same thing to Rattay. The walls rise higher, wrapping around the tall buildings inside, and even from the road, he can see the number of people that stream in and out of the city gates.

As they get closer, he can smell the city, too. Well, Trosky had lost its shine soon enough, so he's not terribly surprised to find that Kuttenberg also has unpleasant aspects.

He must make a face because Henry chuckles. "You get used to it."

"Easy for you to say. Is all of it this terrible?"

"Not all. Some places are cleaner than others. The inn I'm thinking over is closer to a side street."

"And your baths?"

"We'll have to walk through the city, I'm afraid."

"Alas! I suppose I shall have to suffer than."

"Aye, quite the trial for you, my lord." Henry grins makes Hans's heart flutter. How different he is to the boy who'd first used the title so sullenly. A lifetime of change in just a few short months.

As they get closer, they slip into single file to ride past the guards and through the gate. They're mindful of the people they ride beside, but the the pedestrians give them a wide berth. Once into the city proper, Henry leads them off to the right. While Sam needs no information, Henry offers directions to the other three for places where inns and the baths are, let's Godwin know that they'll be staying at the Emperor Charles Tavern—providing there is lodging available—and makes a plan to meet up in a few days.

"To the inn first," Henry says. "There are others available, but I can vouch for the quality there."

Hans taps Caballus into stride, coming up beside Henry as the paths are wide enough to allow it. "You really must tell me more about your exploits. Opening bathhouses, staying in the city's finest inn. What else did you get up to, hmm?"

"It's not like that!" Henry protests. "I didn't go looking for anything. These things just sort of happen."

"Only you." A smile flits across his face. "I'm glad of that, actually. If trouble didn't have a penchant for finding you, we might not have ever met."

"Seem like most of the trouble I get in is on your account," Henry teases back. "Lucky for you that I finding it so endearing."

"Aye," Hans says back, trying—and failing—to replicate Henry's little drawl. "Lucky for me indeed."

The inn Henry leads them to is situated in a row of buildings. Patrons sit at tables and chairs set up in the arcade as maids bring them food and drink. A man in a fine coat and cap stands talking to some men at a table and he glances up as they rein the horses to a stop, and then straightens fully and comes forward, clearly recognizing Henry. "Welcome back!" he greets Henry cheerfully, and then turns to Hans. "And welcome, sir."

"Havel," Henry replies with a nod. "We're hoping you have a room available. One of your better ones."

For the briefest moment, Havel's eyes flick between the two of them. "Just one?" he asks. Henry nods without shame or hesitation. "Then, yes, we do. Master Parler took his leave some few weeks ago. It's my finest room, and should suit your needs just fine. I assume you'll be wanting to stable your horses as well?"

"Please."

"Very well." Havel turns around and clicks his fingers, and a boy—grown, though not quite yet a man—comes hurrying over. "Take their mounts 'round back and get them settled." He turns back to face them. "I'll have your saddlebags brought to your room. Would you care to be shown up now?"

"If it's no trouble. We're off the The Kingfisher and I'd rather not have to carry our armor back."

The innkeeper leads them inside and then up two flights of stairs. Opening to door, he steps back to let them enter, and then takes his leave. Henry waits, letting Hans pass through the door first before following and closing the it behind them. The room is nicer than Hans is expecting. There's only one bed, but it's large, long and wide enough to fit them both. There's a desk in the corner, and a table and benches across from it. Wardrobes, small cabinets, and other amenities scattered about, with windows that allow sufficient light and air to pass into the room.

Henry helps him with his armor first, peeling the heavy layers of metal off. Hans has already sweated through his garments, and he's more aware of it now that they're all that he wears. He's halfway through helping Henry with his when there's a knock on the door. "Your bags, sirs," a voice calls through the door.

Hans abandons his task to fetch him, thanking the boy from earlier, and then dumping them off to the side to finish helping Henry. As soon as the last piece of armor is set down, he claps his hands. "The baths?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to walk back in these." Henry plucks at the front of his gambeson. Then he rummages through their saddlebags, pulling their clothing from them an sortng them into two bundles. The first, smaller bundle he rolls up and hands to Hans. "We'll want something fresh for the trip back." The second, larger bundle gets shoved into a bag. "And might as well get our laundry done at the same time."

Hans smiles. Practical to fault, and he loves him for it.

Heading back down the stairs, Henry leads Hans back out into Kuttenberg, this time on foot. The journey is less pleasant closer to the ground, but Hans supposes there's no help for it. He walks shoulder to shoulder with Henry, their arms bumping as they pass shops and stalls, painted signs displaying the wares inside and hawkers calling out their goods.

It's busy, far busier than Rattay even on market day, and no one here recognizes him. He's aware of the space around them that others give them, but not a single person greets him or bows. It's a little strange, but also oddly refreshing. There is no one here who knows them. That means there's no one who knows who and what they are, no prying eyes they need to hide from, no judgment from anyone that matters.

They are free, for at least a little while.

Henry takes them farther out than he would have expected. This area of Kuttenberg is less developed, the buildings smaller, rougher, the paths in more disrepair. He shoots Henry a look, but Henry just points to a larger white-washed building, a sign with a brilliantly painted bird hanging from it.

"And here we are," he says. "Come on."

There's a woman sitting on the bench out front, her dress nicer that he would expect from someone working in a bathhouse, and when she spots them, she rises to her feet, grinning broadly. "Henry!" she calls out cheerfully.

"Betty!" he calls back and his pace picks up as he closes the gap.

"And who's this?" Betty asks as Hans joins them.

"This is Hans. And this is Betty, owner of The Kingfisher."

"My lady." Hans bows, a touch florid.

Betty laughs. "Welcome to the finest bathhouse in Kuttenberg!" Betty offers jovially. "And I dare say, you two look in dire need of a good scrubbing."

"It's been a very long month," Hans says. Now that the promise of a bath is so close, he can sense how dirt and sweat have settled into every inch of his body, feel the way his hair hangs dark and greasy. His skin and scalp itch with the need to be rid of all of it.

"A month? Well, then, you've come to right place, gentlemen. I'll have the girls start filling the big tub. Have a seat, I'll bring you a drink."

The common area of the baths isn't very big, but it's clean. The air is humid, carrying the scent of food cooking nearby. Sound comes from behind the door across from them where the tubs must be, and steps lead up to a floor above where he suspects other activities take place.

Good as her word, Betty bring them each a brimming tankard, and parched from the road, Hans happily drinks it down. It's good, too, and he's draining the last drops before he's even realized it. Henry just shakes his head at him, and pulls his tankard back, as if Hans would so be uncouth as to try and filch it from him.

"Just the one tub?" Hans murmurs over the lip of his mug. It's what he wants, of course, but the assumption without asking does pique his interest.

Henry shrugs. "She's a perceptive woman. And I did talk about you while I was helping her. I suppose it wasn't hard to put things together."

It makes him curious to know exactly what Henry had said, but he supposes it doesn't really matter, not now.

It doesn't take long for Betty to come back with news their tub is ready, and they follow her upstairs. "Figured you might like a bit of privacy," she says, gesturing toward an open door. "Enjoy your evening, gentlemen."

The room is spacious, with a large tub set toward the back, and the various stools and benches and tables holding supplies set around it. Two maids wait inside and Hans tamps down on the impulse to send them away. Henry and he both deserve to relax, to have professionals put their skills to use. They've more than earned it—Henry more than he, granted—and he intends to take full advantage of what's offered to them.

One of the women takes their clothing once they've stripped, along with the most of the rest in their bags, and the other woman waits as they step into the tub. Henry lets Hans go first, holding out a hand to steady him as he steps over the high side, and then Hans keeps hold of his hand so Henry can step in as well.

Sizable though the tub it, it's a bit of work arranging their bodies until they can both recline comfortably, legs tangled together beneath the water. Hans groans as he sits back, the heat from the water immediately soaking into muscles that have gone too long without. "Heaven," he sighs, and then does so again as one of the women takes a pitcher and pours water over the back of his neck and shoulders. "Our angels," he coos, the women giggling at him.

Time becomes a nebulous concept as the women set to the task before them. His hair is lathered and rinsed three times before it finally feels clean, and he would swear he's shed literal pounds as his body is scrubbed free of every last bit of accumulated filth. He's in bliss, and that's before the maid attending him begins to work on easing the soreness that a month of fighting and starving has left in him.

And as heavenly as that all is, it pales in comparison as he watches Henry receive equal treatment. Here, there is no sign of that blushing young man from that first night at the baths in Rattay. Henry doesn't hide himself, doesn't attempt to make himself small, doesn't goggle in wide-eyed wonder at things previously denied to him. His arms stretch along the side of the tub and he groans as his maid works at his own knots and sore spots.

The sounds stir something else in Hans, and he's not sure he can wait until they're back at the inn to be the cause of them.

He waits, though, until the women have finished, made sure they need anything else, and then slip out the door, closing it firmly behind them. As soon as the door thunks shut, Hans is moving, pulling himself across the tub and into Henry's lap, who gives a startled laugh, but grabs his hips to pull him flush. Hans kisses him, hard, Henry's mouth opening beneath his to let him in.

When his hands begin to wander down, Henry pulls back. "Not here," he gasps.

"It's a bathhouse," Hans grumbles. "No one will be shocked."

But Henry shakes his head. "No. Want you alone."

"We'll hardly be the sole occupants of the inn. We'll hardly know anyone else is here."

But as if to give lie to his words, there's a sudden burst of laughter from nearby. And once he hears it, he can't stop. Doors opens and closing, voices carrying from nearby rooms or the hallway.

"Sakra," he mutters, dropping his head to Henry's shoulder. "I hate when you're right."

"No, you don't," Henry teases.

"Well, you needn't be so smug about it." He sighs and then pushes back, getting to his feet. "Let's not waste time, then." He uses his hands to strip water off his body before stepping out, reaching for a sheet to dry himself with.

Henry doesn't move, just watches him with eyes that have gone dark.

"No!" Hans says quickly. "You cannot say 'not here' and then look at me like that. Either get out of that tub this instant or I'm going to pin you down and have my way with you."

Somehow, impossibly, Henry's eyes go darker and his tongue darts out to immediately dampen his lower lip. Heat pools low in Hans's belly. For a man who said he wanted to get back to the inn first, Henry surely isn't making his easy.

"Out!" he commands, and with a nod Henry obeys. Then it's Hans's turn to look, noting that despite Henry's professed desire to wait until the inn, he's not unaffected.

They dry and dress, Henry says he'll return tomorrow to get their clean clothes tomorrow, and with no further need to linger they take their leave. The walk back from the bathhouse always feels longer, and this evening it feels longer still with the promise what waits. And as soon as the tavern comes back into sight, Hans lengthens his stride, Henry matching him without a word.

"Do you want something to eat?" Henry asks as they get close.

"No," Hans says emphatically. "That can wait." Then something occurs to him. "Unless you do?" Henry is still too thin, and Hans will not have him going hungry.

But Henry shakes his head. "I can wait."

The common room is more crowded now, and they must thread their way through patrons and servers as they make their way back upstairs. Thankfully, being two floors up does a lot to mute the noise from below, and the thick walls prove up to the task of further muffling any sound that does travel up.

He hears Henry throw the bolt and turns, already reaching for him, but the expression on Henry's face makes him stop. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Henry demurs, "but I think we should talk first."

"Talk?" Hans takes a step back, but Henry reaches out, wraps his fingers around Hans's wrist.

"Please." He pulls Hans closer, slides his other hand low around Hans's back. "It's killing me not to take you to bed right now, but we do need to talk first."

"Look at you, so confident about what you want. Where did my bashful peasant go?"

"He doesn't have time to waste anymore."

Hans looks away, swallows hard. "Point made. Can we at least have this conversation in bed?"

Henry laughs, the quiet, warm sound rumbling into Hans. "Aye, we can do that."

They shed shoes and layers until they're down to hose and braies, and then Henry tugs him over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling Hans down next to him.

Henry takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out slowly. "I love you," he begins. "I want you. God help me, I didn't think it was possible to want anyone as much as I do you."

"But?" Hans asks because he knows there's more to this than Henry confessing how overcome by desire he is.

"But." Henry shakes his head faintly. "Father spoke to me before we left to warn me that we needed to…be careful."

Ah. That would explain a lot about Henry's need to talk. It might not be something Hans wishes to discuss right now, but doing so is sensible. So he nods. "Hanush said much the same thing, though your father was probably a bit kinder about it. Hanush threatened my inheritance if I proved myself so stupid."

Henry's hand closes over his where it rests on the bed, calluses softened for now by the bath. "I want to do everything together that we can. I want to learn you in ways no one else ever will. But I—we can't risk it."

"You're saying you can't fuck me the way you did in Suchdol."

"To put it bluntly, yes." He frowns a little. "I don't know if it's already too late."

Neither does Hans. He glances down at his belly, still flat. Could it already be too late? Could Henry's seed have already taken root? The thought makes him feel strange. Given any choice, he would choose a family with Henry, but to be the bearer of his own children…that's something he's never really thought about. It had never been a consideration. It still isn't, but his mind entertains the possibility anyway. He tries to picture himself like he's seen expecting women in Rattay and the thought leaves him feeling faintly ill for reasons that have nothing to do with Hanush's threats.

He pushes the image from his mind. "A bridge we'll cross if we come to it," he finally says. "But I take your meaning well enough." He's somewhat disappointed by the prospect of not having Henry that way again, but it is the wiser course of action. "We'll simply have to content ourselves with other pleasures."

"Mm, I'm hoping we'll be a bit more than just content," Henry teases. He leans forward, kisses Hans softly. "Thank you, for understanding."

"It really is in my best interest to," Hans admits, breath catching as Henry nuzzles along his jaw. "Now, will you finally take me to bed properly?"

Henry smiles against his skin. "With pleasure."

They do not immediately rush to strip the rest of their clothing. Instead they stay where they are, kissing, letting their hands explore and wander, until Hans is too hard and aching in his braies. Only then does he push Henry back long enough to stand and tug at the ties of his braies, shoving them and hose down his legs, grateful he'd decided to skip garters. He flaps an impatient hand at Henry when he sits there watching Hans instead of making himself as naked as Hans needs him to be.

Once Henry has done the same, Hans pushes him back down onto the bed, crawling on top of him to kiss him again. He can feel both their cocks trapped between them, hot and hard, and his mind races with what options are available to them since they cannot follow the most logical course of action.

Hans has…inklings of what two men can get up to with each other, and Henry has demonstrated the capability his hands possess, but Hans doesn't want to lie back and be serviced. At least not tonight. Were Henry a woman, this would all be much easier. He would know exactly what to do. His hips thrust a little at the thought, his cock dragging through the hair on Henry's belly, making him gasp and Henry groan.

He does it again and is rewarded with Henry's hands settling on his hips. "Yes?" he asks and is rewarded with Henry breathing the word back to him.

He shifts a little, looking for leverage, and Henry parts his legs, letting Hans between as if he were a woman, bending his knees to cradle Hans between his thighs. Surprised, Hans jerks his head up, but Henry just tugs at his hips again, urging him to move.

So Hans does. It's not quite perfect, the angle not quite what he's used to, but it lets him brace himself, rolling his hips again to slide his cock alongside Henry's. The clear fluid that leaks from both of them eases the glide, and Henry's grip helps keep them pressed firmly together.

It's different and a little strange, but Hans is consumed by the fact that it's Henry underneath him. He's big and solid and so very male that it upends everything Hans had ever thought he desired. His Henry, his Hal. His alpha. The thought makes him shiver. Henry is his, will always be his, and no distance, no wife, no propriety can ever change that.

He kisses Henry again, sloppy, feeling the press of a sharp fang against his bottom lip almost hard enough to cut. His grips Henry's shoulders, using the hold for more leverage. He can feel pleasure coiling deep, the ache inside that he ignores, and focuses on the sensation of his cock pressed between them, of feeling Henry's next to it, the swell of his knot as it starts to form.

He thrusts harder, faster, chasing his own end, hoping this is enough for Henry, too. And then he feels it when Henry jerks, warmth spilling between them as he groans, low and deep, holding Hans still against him as his own hips twitch as he comes.

With a whine, Hans pulls against Henry's hold. "Please," he gasps. "Jesus, Henry, let me move!"

With a grunt, Henry loosens his hands just enough, and then it's his turn to whine as Hans resumes, Henry's spend making everything slick between them. Perhaps, another time, Hans will draw this out, delay his own end to see how sensitive and desperate Henry could get like this, to see if Hans could bring him off again, just like this, but for now, he just wants to reach his own end.

His spend joins Henry's after a minute more, their seed mixing between their bodies. There's more of it than Hans remembers from Suchdol, leaving both of them nearly soaked.

"Told you," Hans laughs.

"Hmm?"

"That I'd make sure we need a daily bath."

Henry's laugh shakes him where Hans still lies atop him. "I think baths every day might strain even Betty's generosity."

"Then I suppose Hanush's coin will be put to good use then."

Henry lifts a hand, brushes Hans's hair off his forehead. It's gotten long, and he should probably seek out a barber before too much longer. "A worthy cause. In the meantime, my own skills will have to suffice to keep us clean," Henry murmurs.

Hans holds tight when he feels Henry start to shift. "A little while longer, if you please," and Henry settles back into the bed. Relaxing, Hans goes boneless over him, relishing in the broad warmth of him. There will be time enough later to set them to rights. For now, he just wants this, just them.

Together.