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Patrick knew he was smiling like a madman as he walked down the huge, far too long church aisle. While yes, he had expected an arrangement for his marriage, being the last in a long line of children, he didn't expect it to happen so suddenly. One day he was sitting there, unbothered as a prince, and the next he was being married off to try and ease tensions before a war broke out.
Yes, he knew his role was important. His father had just won the last war not two years ago, and his people were weary. His one job was to try to please his new husband and secure a few more years of peace. What more could he really expect?
He didn't even know the name of his betrothed. He'd been told once, and he completely forgot, so he was really just praying that the tall man standing at the altar was going to say his vows first.
At least his husband-to-be wasn't unattractive. Patrick already knew the size difference would be embarrassing, but the man looked good in a suit, hair curly and eyes dark. Again, he cursed the size of the church. It felt like he had been walking forever and he was still far from his destination.
Never one to seek out a spotlight, Patrick could feel the many eyes of the other nobility on him. He felt like a sad pig at a stall at the market. He was only purchased through pity, and his end goal was to be slaughtered for meat.
He very much hoped nobody else could see his nervousness. Not only did he not know the man he was about to marry and live with, he was about to get in a carriage and go to a keep he had never been to, with people he had never met. And, worst of all, he was going to have to figure out how to kiss someone while not making a fool of himself in front of a crowd.
Finally, he was at a distance where if he decided to sprint he could probably make it without having to catch his breath.
Patrick, of course, did not throw away his dignity so lightly. He kept marching forward, eyes straight ahead. As much as he wanted this over with, he didn't think he would survive the embarrassment.
Close enough now to see his betrothed's face, Patrick wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried that the man was unreadably neutral. He assumed he looked similar, of course, but still.
The orchestra behind him swelled as he took his final steps. Finally, he took his place, and the final notes hung in a resounding silence. Then, the sound of a crowd of people standing up as the first hymn began.
Patrick could barely hear himself as the whole church sang something about God being good. He sang along, of course, but he wasn't paying much attention to the words. Most of the songs were the same anyway.
This would be much better if he had gotten to select the music, he supposed. He hadn't been invited to plan his own wedding. He was just a pawn on the chessboard, after all.
It was about food. His father had swaths of farmland, and their crop had been good for the last decade. The other kingdom was experiencing a shortage, and demanded either more trade or his father's land. Patrick was the first phase of his father going the trade route. If the merchants were promised a long lasting alliance, they were far more likely to travel to the neighboring lands.
And so, here he was, singing the last note of some hymn, and getting ready to stand there pretending to pay attention as the priest got ready to read some scriptures about the sanctity of a holy matrimony.
He tried to glance up at his husband-to-be's face, but the man was far too tall for him to try doing that discreetly. Patrick knew he was blushing, and once again cursed inwardly at his height. As much as he needed to keep appearances, he didn't want the gossips to think this was some sort of 'love at first sight' type of thing.
Far sooner than Patrick would have liked, the priest was looking at him expectantly. He blinked, then blushed harder, glancing around at people who were obviously waiting for him to speak. His betrothed looked annoyed.
"I do." Patrick stated, and it was really a lucky guess, judging by the palpable collective relief. Nobody had really explained his wedding to him.
"And you, Raymond Toro," the priest continued, "do you take this man, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, to love and cherish, through sickness and health, until parted by death, with God as your witness?"
Raymond smiled in a way that didn't touch his eyes. "I do."
Music swelled, and Patrick was nervous for a moment, before there was movement in his peripheral. He almost felt relieved that someone was bringing the rings first before he had to kiss this Raymond person.
“Please rise, and join me in a hymn to mark the beginning of the coupling of the fair Prince Stump and Prince Toro!”
Well, this wasn't going to be over with quite as quickly as Patrick had hoped. The ring bearer was now marching along slowly, probably poised to arrive when the song was done. He tried not to look as disappointed as he felt. He just wanted this whole thing over with.
It was as if time itself was playing with him, stretching on as if his life was just a cruel joke. He had no idea where he was going after this, only knew that his things had been taken out of his room and moved to his new home, wherever that was. He was told of his role in this less than a fortnight ago, was told the wedding was already planned. He wondered if his father thought he would try to run if he was told sooner.
That didn't matter, of course. The hymn ended, the ring bearer arriving perfectly on time.
“Prince Stump,” the priest began, “please take the ring closest to you.”
Patrick figured there was no way for him to turn even more red than he was. He fumbled only slightly as he took the ring. He blinked, waiting for more instruction.
“Place it on your betrothed's finger.”
There was something else he was supposed to do, he knew. Raymond held out his hand, and Patrick shakily slipped it on. He figured he was supposed to say something. Might as well give that a try.
“Prince Toro-” Patrick cleared his throat. “Raymond. From this day forward, I am yours. Let this ring be a symbol of my devotion to you. I am honored to be your husband. Know that whatever happens, I will be faithfully by your side.”
He hoped that was good enough, because no other words came to him. He chewed his lip. Raymond didn't seem all that impressed by his speech.
Only a beat of silence followed before the priest spoke again. “Prince Toro. Please take the ring closest to you.”
Raymond did as he was told.
“Place it on your betrothed's finger.”
Patrick held his hand out as steadily as he could. It took him a moment to realize that Raymond was shaking, too. He swallowed.
“Patrick. With this ring, I am forever yours. You will never have to bear a lonely night, nor a loveless day, again. Whatever you face, I will be there, and we will face it together.”
For just a moment, it was quiet, and Patrick could recognize his own fear reflected back at him through Raymond.
“You may now kiss.” The priest declared.
There was no time to hesitate. Patrick didn't spare a glance to the crowd. He knew the gossips would be raving about this tomorrow, and it was his job to leave no room for doubt. He stretched upward, cringing internally at the way he had to get up on his tip toes to reach his new husband.
It must have looked awkward, the way Raymond still had to bend over. Patrick pressed his lips to Raymond's, uncertain but resolute in this being his life from now on. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to feel like, but kissing his husband felt like kissing one of the statues in the courtyard.
One moment stretched into what felt like forever. Patrick wasn't quite sure how long they were supposed to stay like this. Raymond was the one to pull away, movements wooden as he straightened up.
“By the power vested in me by the Almighty, I now present to you Princes Patrick and Raymond Toro!” The priest exclaimed.
Patrick felt himself go pale as the crowd roared. He hadn't realized his name was changing. He hadn't even considered names.
An attendant was motioning for them to come, but he was too stunned to even process. Raymond started to move, then looked back. Patrick watched him sigh, then grab his hand, dragging Patrick along behind him.
This time, the walk felt short. It was as if he blinked, and then he was being shoved into a carriage. Raymond got in behind him, shut the door, and stared sullenly out the window as the carriage started to move.
Patrick Martin Toro. Tears pricked at Patrick's eyes as he realized life would truly never be the same. He never saw himself taking the name of another man. He didn't particularly care that he was married to a man over a woman, but he'd always assumed he would remain a Stump.
It must have been in the negotiations, he figured. Just another bargaining chip as his life was signed away.
“So,” Patrick began. “I suppose I should properly introduce myself.”
Raymond didn't respond.
“I am Patrick Martin St- Toro.” He corrected hastily. “Youngest of the children of King Stump.”
“I know.” Raymond replied.
Patrick blinked, feeling a bit disheartened. “I wasn't told much about you. I wasn't sure if you'd been told anything.”
His husband just grunted.
“I- I know it's a lot. I'm sorry.” Patrick offered.
“Look, it's been a long day.” Raymond sounded annoyed. “And I, personally, am not looking forward to what happens when we get to the keep.”
Patrick paused. “What happens when we get to the keep?”
Now Raymond looked at him, glaring. “They have to make sure we properly consummate.”
Silence.
Patrick didn't know how to respond. He just let the conversation go.
The world outside got darker as they left the city and rode through farmland. Eventually, the carriage was surrounded by trees. Patrick had never spent much time out of the city, though dim memories of his boyhood reminded him of the summer home out in the country. After his mother was poisoned, his father never left the castle much. He had been six, maybe seven.
“So, what is your family like, Raymond?” Patrick started again.
There was a long pause, long enough for Patrick to figure he was being ignored. He chewed his lip, wondering if that was the wrong thing to ask.
“I suppose the same as any other royal family.” He finally responded. “And you may call me Ray.”
Patrick just nodded, lapsing into silence again. It was getting brighter out as the moon rose.
The forest gave way to farmland again after a time, and now Ray shifted, sighing, before he spoke. “I assume you've never been with a man before.”
Patrick looked over, wide eyed. “I've never been with anyone before.”
He watched Ray take a deep breath. “Alright. Try to follow my lead. I believe there are attendants waiting to witness our first coupling. One reports to your father, one to mine.”
Patrick swallowed. He looked Ray up and down. “How is this supposed to work?”
“You will lie back and let me take care of you, alright?”
“Wait-” Patrick felt his heart skip several beats. “You're going to be the one inside of me?”
Ray gave him a look.
“But-” Patrick spluttered, feeling himself begin to shake. “There's no way that's going to work. You're too tall.”
“Don't try to back out now, husband.” Ray glared. “It's not like I asked for this.”
“You're going to break me.” Patrick tried to keep his voice calm, but there was an edge of hysteria he could hear. He blinked away tears that threatened to fall.
He watched Ray roll his eyes. “I am not going to break you. It might not be the most pleasant thing you've ever experienced, but my people need to eat and your people need peace. I would just like to get it over with.”
He tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't. His chest was too tight. All Patrick could really manage was a small wheezing noise as he hyperventilated.
Ray went back to ignoring him as he tried to regain his composure.
Eventually, Patrick noticed the tall, imposing stone building they were coming up on. He could only stare in a confusing mixture of terror and numbness as the carriage finally came to a halt.
Sighing, Ray paused, hand on the door. “Look. I'm not going to hurt you. I just- I'm here because of my duty to my people. Alright?”
Patrick tried to formulate a response, but ended up just nodding.
“I believe we're supposed to have dinner first, if that makes you feel better?”
With that, the door to the carriage opened, servants looking in expectantly. Ray took him by the hand, led him into the large open doors of his new home. Patrick couldn't stop shaking, but he had figured out how to breathe again. Ray seemed to know his way around, leading him into a grand dining hall, with a long table that looked to be able to seat around twenty.
It felt ridiculous. Ray sat at the head, Patrick to his right. There was so much empty space. Patrick glanced around for any sign of familiarity.
Patrick recognized one person in attendance, one of his father's servants, and felt his stomach drop. She was a kindly older woman named Cordelia, someone Patrick had turned to after his mother had died. Shame and embarrassment pooled deep inside him as he realized she was his father's witness. He couldn't meet her eyes.
Instead, he kept his eyes down to the stew and bread he was being served, eating quietly and slowly. He wasn't particularly hungry.
“Would you like wine, my Lord?” A servant asked.
Patrick nodded, mouth suddenly dry. He could feel his husband's eyes on him as he gulped down his glass. He could feel himself blush again.
All too soon, or maybe not soon enough, Patrick found himself being served a slice of cake. He'd imagined a lot of things about his perfect wedding. This spice cake was not one of them.
He glanced over at Ray when the man set down his fork, gesturing to a servant that he was done. Patrick followed suit. He couldn't stomach eating the whole thing, anyway.
Ray looked to him again, smiled in a way that looked far too forced, and offered him his hand. Patrick took it, tried not to cry as he stood. Cordelia and a man he had never met before followed as Ray led Patrick through a maze of stone halls and stairs.
Oh, there was no way Patrick wasn't going to be getting lost in here.
It took a while, but eventually Ray threw open a door and Patrick took a moment to recognize some of the things that had been taken from his bedroom. Instruments, books, one of his rugs, and, embarrassingly, his favorite childhood wooden pull-along wolf.
The door closed, and Patrick didn't dare glance in that direction. He might combust if he happened to lock eyes with Cordelia. He could hear Ray take a deep breath. Nobody said anything.
Patrick looked up at his husband as Ray's hands made contact with his shoulders. Patrick couldn't deny it. He was scared, shaking even as Ray tried to hold him steady. Ray seemed to soften a bit as tears finally began to flow down Patrick's face.
Ray kissed his cheeks slow, gentle, before he began to push Patrick towards the bed. Patrick just did as he was directed, tried not to make a sound as Ray began to remove his clothes. He was doing this for his people, to maintain the peace his father had worked so hard for. What he wanted didn't matter, not in the grand scheme.
His shirts finally off, Patrick sat down on the edge of the bed. He watched Ray shed the clothes on his top half, struggling only a little with the formal attire. To say Ray wasn't physically attractive would be a lie. In any other situation, Patrick might even appreciate this show.
Unfortunately, he was stuck in this one, and now Ray was pulling off his belt. He watched Ray shimmy into full nakedness, and not for the first time today, felt his blood freeze in his veins.
He really wasn't sure how Ray was going to fit that inside of him. Patrick knew he himself wasn't that large, and Ray wasn't even fully erect yet. He blinked up at his husband, not even trying to hide how nervous he was anymore.
Ray didn't react much, just knelt down to pull off Patrick's belt and pants, too. Patrick didn't fight it. He didn't fight the sob that escaped him, either.
Trying not to think too much about the audience in the room, Patrick shivered. He was now naked too, shaking and afraid and probably not putting on the best display for his new husband. Ray looked up at him, and for a moment Patrick could swear he looked worried, but that faded fast and was replaced by the same neutral mask Patrick saw when they first met.
Ray licked up the underside of Patrick's dick, and Patrick gasped.
Nobody had ever touched him there before. He hadn't touched himself there much, almost always with a servant or chaperone who would have knocked him upside the head had he tried. It felt good, he couldn't lie.
It was more instinct than anything that one of his hands began to run through Ray's hair, more of a gentle petting than anything. His husband’s tongue lapped at him almost lazily, and now the shivers Patrick was experiencing weren't wholly unpleasant.
There wasn't much of a surprise when Patrick twitched slowly into being fully hard, cock now flushed with blood. He gasped any time Ray's tongue flicked over the head, hand gripping a little tighter in his curls. Ray didn't seem to mind that much.
Too soon, Ray stopped, shifting to move Patrick up further on the bed. Patrick didn't mind being manhandled too much, now unsure if his body would even comply with what he wanted. Ray lifted his hips, shoving a pillow underneath. Patrick held back a cry as Ray spread his legs, feeling overexposed.
He felt almost detached as he watched Ray stick a finger in his own mouth, then felt that warm wetness rubbing at his hole. Patrick blinked, staring up at his husband, who seemed entirely focused on what he was doing. Pressure built at his entrance.
And then Ray's finger was inside of him.
It wasn't exceptionally unpleasant. Foreign, sure, and something that made him squirm, but it didn't hurt. Patrick tried to relax as Ray curled his finger.
There was a stretch and burn when Ray added another finger, spreading them apart as Patrick whined. The pain wasn't unbearable, no, but he didn't like it. It faded away soon enough.
When Ray added another finger, Patrick yelped. It was too dry, skin catching on him as Ray looked at him, confused. It took him a second to process, then Ray was spitting on his fingers, shoving them back inside Patrick in a slightly more pleasant way. Again, slowly, Patrick got used to the burn, the pain fading as he was stretched.
Ray licked his fourth finger before adding it in. Patrick managed to breathe through the feeling, and it wasn't long before Ray pulled out his hand, wiping it on the bed sheets.
For a moment, everything seemed to still. Patrick could only hear his own breathing and heartbeat. He watched nervously as time began to move again, Ray taking his cock and lining it up to Patrick's.
Blushing, Patrick noted that not only was he longer, but he was thicker, too, and he wondered for a moment if his husband thought less of him for it. Ray simply thrusted against Patrick, dicks rubbing together, and Patrick moaned, filing that thought away for another time.
Licking his hand sloppily, Ray gripped the two of them together, frotting against Patrick in a way that made him let out a sound he'd never made before. After maybe a minute of that, Ray seemed satisfied, and let go, the tip of his cock tracing lower until it caught on the gape of Patrick's hole.
A moment of silence. Patrick stared up at Ray, who was staring back at him. Patrick tried to offer a smile. Ray tried right back.
It burned. Patrick felt as if he was splitting apart as Ray pushed in. Tears sprung to Patrick's eyes, and Ray hesitated, allowing Patrick some time to breathe before continuing to push in. Ray hesitated a couple more times before he was finally flush with Patrick, who was now fully crying.
He couldn't help it, not really. He pressed his face into his husband’s chest, trying to hide from the prying eyes in the room. This was not his best showing.
To Ray’s credit, he shifted to hold himself up with one arm, the other snaking around Patrick's shoulders to hold him closer. They stayed like that for a while, until the impatience in the room was palpable.
Ray let go, sighed, and rolled his hips against Patrick.
The pain gave way to something more pleasant as Ray moved. Patrick shifted, unsure of what to do as Ray worked. Ray seemed to notice his restlessness, leaned down to kiss him. It wasn't as awkward as the one at the altar, though Patrick still wasn't sure they fit together quite right. He assumed that would get easier with time. His hands gripped around Ray's shoulders, searching for anything to ground him.
A hand wrapped around his dick, and now Ray was pumping him in time with his thrusts, grunting as he started to slam in. Something hot boiled deep inside Patrick. It begged to escape, and Patrick shot a frightened glance up at Ray, who just gave him a tight smile in return.
Patrick cried out as he spilled his seed over both himself and Ray, vision going blurry as Ray sought to catch up, gripping his hips and pushing in deeper. It felt like too much. Tears spilled yet again, overstimulated as Ray burst inside him.
Ray rolled them over, holding Patrick close as he cried. Patrick jumped as he felt hands on his ass, but Ray didn't allow him to look back. Someone pulled Ray's softening dick out of Patrick, and he could feel Ray begin to drip from his hole.
There was shuffling behind him, and then the sound of the door opening and closing.
Sobbing, Patrick curled into his husband, who began rubbing a hand on his back. The rest of the keep was quiet. Patrick could only guess at the time.
Ray just breathed deeply, holding Patrick tight. He appreciated it, unsure what he would do if Ray pushed him away at this point.
After a few minutes, Patrick regained enough composure to form words again.
“Thank you, Ray, for being as gentle as you were with me.”
“It's no problem.” Ray said simply. He paused, then sighed. “You know, this past year I thought you were the one to blame for all this. I didn't realize you were just a kid.”
“I learned I was getting married about nine days ago.” Patrick replied morosely.
Ray ran a hand through Patrick's hair, saying nothing.
It was silent for a while before Ray spoke up again. “You know, I would like to see if we could make this work, instead of being stuck in a loveless, political marriage.”
“I would like that, too.”
“I suppose, if you felt up to it, tomorrow you could show me some of your talents? I see there are more instruments here than there were before.”
Patrick hummed. “Of course, if you showed me yours too.”
Ray chuckled. “You know, I did vow to face anything and everything together with you.”
“And I vowed to be always by your side.”
“It would be nice if this whole thing could work out.” Ray yawned.
Patrick made a noise of agreement, drifting off into the nothingness of sleep.