little french boy. ➵ lashton ✔

dix.

)i'm sorry for this chapter i think)

)honestly i haven't even written it yet and i'm apologizing)

)new update i'm halfway through the chapter and unsure of what the fuck i'm writing teehee)

)this chapter has fcking eVERYTHING YOURE WELCOME)

"Sir Ashton?" Luke trilled in a high, French accent, bumping in to him as Ashton took his hand and they ran up the front stairwell. Luke was tracking dirt into the castle from being out at the stables all morning but he didn't mind a bit, as he was about to have a shower with the king and the maids were to clean it up later.

Excited hands cupped Luke's body once they were alone, electricity seeping through them and in to Luke's pale skin, the skin marred with bruises and scars.

Ashton traced the scars with his hot tongue, the two standing bare in front of each other inside the quiet safety of their room.

Luke shivered and Ashton stopped pursuing the scars, looking up at him.

Quickly, Luke remedied, afraid the king was hesitant because of him.

"Non, continuer."

Ashton pressed fleeting kisses to Luke's skin, the warm lips connecting with the cold flesh and sending a spiral of warm feelings everywhere within Luke.

"I want you to call me Ashton," the king mumbled against Luke's shoulder, the smaller boy much too infatuated with Ashton's lips to even consider what he was saying.

"Luke?"

This caught Luke's attention, and the boy was staring at Ashton with readied eyes immediately.

"Ashton."

"Eashtion."

"Close enough."

Ashton connected their lips once more and Luke wrapped his arms around Ashton's neck again, continuing their snogging.

None of them heard the man knocking on the door.

///

They finally heard the knocking when Ashton had finished making love to Luke and they were planning to take their shower. Ashton had hurriedly dressed himself and pushed a fumbling Luke away in to the bathroom which he promptly locked.

Ashton opened the door to his chambers and tilted his head to see Jeoffrey, a loyal and level-headed guard, now frantic and panicky.

"What seems to be the trouble at such late an hour, Jeoffrey?" Ashton asked, sliding the useless nightcap off of his head. He'd placed it there for good measure, although the flimsy scrap of cloth had never been useful for containing Ashton's curly mop of hair.

"The servants. They're storming the castle with the Duke of Ralf's army." Jeoffrey explained hurriedly.

Ashton stayed calm. Obviously, he remembered who the Duke of Ralf was, who previously belonged to him, and who now belonged to the King of Helungar.

"Round up the troops. Imprison any servant you see roaming around. Luke?"

Ashton turned, leaving Jeoffrey at the door as he walked back to the bathroom, calling for his French boy once more.

He opened the door and gasped.

"If you see Luke, you've seen him before, haven't you? If you see him, bring him to me. God above only knows what kinds of revolutionary ideas he's put in to the minds of my people."

///

Luke had heard the chatter. He'd heard from Harry's family that a revolution against the king was approaching, and approaching quickly. His bare feet pounded against the dry dirt of the back lot of the castle.