Galad’s study was one of the few rooms in the Fort’s guardhouse that had the privilege of having an external window. It was a security risk, surely, but as it was where the Knight-Captain of the Knights Protector spent most of his time, there were exceptions to be made.

Besides, the chamber was on the interior side of the guardhouse. Were the study to be breached through the window, the Fort’s defenses would have already been compromised to begin with. Vayne nevertheless spied, out of the corner of his eye, runes of warding etched into the stone of the window frame.

A beam of sunlight streamed through the open window and fell upon a corner of Galad’s desk. It just so happened—conveniently enough—that it was the same corner where Vayne had propped up his feet on the pretense of being tired.

Vayne flexed his toes and watched, gleefully, as Galad’s eyes widened ever so slightly in response. He wasn’t sure that Galad would have been able to avert his gaze to begin with, but with the sun shining on his feet, they were all but certain to keep Galad’s attention for some time, at least.

He figured he would give the Knight-Captain of the Knights Protector a minute or so. He’d asked a question, after all, and it seemed that Galad had forgotten all about it. Pointing out that fact was sure to put the other off-balance.

“You never answered my question, Brother. Is everything alright?” said Vayne after some time had passed. He feigned concern and fought back the smirk that was tugging at the corner of his mouth. Now wasn’t the time to be reminding Galad of their old rivalry—that would be instrumental later, when the other knight was primed to be taken down a peg.

It took a moment for Galad to respond. And even then, only half-heartedly. “Hm? What was that, Brother?” he said.

Galad cast a glance toward Vayne. His gaze didn’t linger, instead sliding over where Vayne was seated as if Vayne weren’t there at all. His eyes then snapped back to the sun-bathed feet perched on the corner of his desk, the glint of hunger clear behind their steely amber.

“My question, Brother Galad. You never answered it,” Vayne said. This time, he used the same stern tone of voice that he would use on one of his men if they had misbehaved—the very same one that he would have used on a recalcitrant novice, had he encountered one.

The shift in Vayne’s tone did the trick. Galad’s eyes widened. His cheeks flushed. He looked at Vayne, really looked at him, this time, but quickly averted his gaze as the red in his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears. “My apologies, Brother… What was the question again?” he murmured.

Galad had spoken so softly that were it not for Vayne’s vastly improved sense of hearing, he might not have picked up on what the other had said at all. “I had asked if you had experienced anything out of the ordinary of late. Dreams of a carnal nature, perhaps? Or new and unnatural desires?”

The flush in Galad’s cheeks darkened. “N-no, Brother,” he said, a tremor slipping into his voice before he managed to compose himself and add, with more confidence, “I can’t say that I’ve experienced anything of the sort.”

It was a blatant lie, and Vayne knew it. He could faintly sense the guilt that Galad felt at telling a mistruth. The latter was a pious man still, after all, and dishonesty went against the teachings of the Church.

Vayne, on the other hand, had no such compunctions. He was willing to play along. For a while at least. “Truly, Brother?” he said.

Galad hesitated—but only for a moment—and then nodded. “Truly,” he said.

Vayne had to suppress a laugh. As effective as he’d heard Galad was at his job of protecting the fort, Galad was an awful liar. He couldn’t have sounded less convinced of his own words.

“That is good news, Brother,” said Vayne. He gave Galad a small smile and allowed some of the tension he’d contrived in his shoulders to slacken. “It gladdens me to hear that though the tainted influence of the hells has touched the Fort, our defenders remain stalwart and vigilant against the forces of wickedness.”

There was that guilt again, bright and obvious in Galad’s amber gaze. It looked like he was about to confess, but decided against it halfway through. When he realized Vayne was watching him closely, he schooled his expression into his usual standoffishness.

Galad frowned and set his jaw. “I should hope that you trust us to carry out our duties with the utmost solemnity and dedication,” he said. His tone was convincingly stern, but it had none of the forcefulness that was typical of him. “The Knights Protector are resolute and ever-watchful. I would not have you imply otherwise.”

Vayne allowed himself a small smirk as he raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “I did not mean to imply any such thing. My point is merely that we are all human; we lose focus all too easily. I am glad that the Knights Protector take their duties seriously.”

Galad scoffed. Vayne had clearly struck a chord. “My men would sooner face the shadow of death than to be lax in their duties. I will not suffer to see these walls breached by negligence under my command.”

Vayne resisted the urge to point out that the walls had already been breached. Galad couldn’t have known that bringing him back would expose a fatal weakness in the Fort’s protections, after all.

“I should hope so,” said Vayne with a resolute nod. “We depend on you and your men to protect the Order from those who would see it fall to rubble.”

“And each of us shall do so with pride so long as we yet breathe. Now, if there is nothing else, I would ask that you…” Galad trailed off as his gaze drifted back toward Vayne’s sun-bathed feet. He shook his head and fixed his eyes on Vayne, jaw clenched. “I would ask that you leave me to my work. I have quite a bit to do.”

“On that matter, I was hoping that you might suffer my company a while longer,” said Vayne. The look of consternation that Galad gave him nearly brought a smirk to his lips but he held himself back. There was no need to antagonize the other man. Not right now, anyway.

Galad frowned. “Your company is not so unpleasant as to cause suffering,” he said.

Vayne chuckled. “Inconvenience, on the other hand…”

Galad gave Vayne a flat look. “Yes, if you must know. Your presence is an inconvenience. I do not think us close enough friends to warrant the… liberties… that you have decided to take in my presence,” he said, his gaze darting briefly toward Vayne’s feet.

He gestured toward the papers that were in front of him and added, “And while I’m certain the circumstances of your return have allowed you some latitude when it comes to fulfilling your duties, I am confident that you have better things to do than to distract me from my work.”

Vayne blinked, feigning surprise at the harsh words. “I knew that we did not see eye to eye, Brother, but I did not imagine your animosity against me to be so strong.”

There was that guilty look again. Galad took a deep breath. “Apologies, Brother. You simply caught me at an inconvenient moment. I do not mean to turn you away so harshly, I just…”

Vayne waved his hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it, Brother,” he said with a little laugh. “Nowhere in the Scriptures do they say that you must like the company of everyone you meet. Forgive me a few minutes to rest my feet and I shall be on my way.”

Galad opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped himself. “Alright,” he said, after a moment. “But forgive me if I do not make for good conversation.”

Vayne gave Galad a little smile. “I will be glad for the opportunity to relax for a short while,” he said.

Galad returned the smile with a perfunctory one of his own and said, “Very well.” He then turned his gaze to the documents before him.

A minute or so passed in silence before Vayne spoke up. “After this, I shall return to my investigation,” he said.

“Light help you when you do, Brother,” said Galad. He was very pointedly keeping his eyes on the papers in front of him. He even made a show of tracing his finger along the lines of text. It was just that Vayne could tell Galad wasn’t reading a single word.

“Thank you, Brother. I shall need it. This pursuit takes me on endless circles around the Fort,” said Vayne. He had to admire Galad’s dedication to the façade. The man was managing not to look at all, but his struggle was fairly evident.

Galad was silent for a moment. “We Knights Protector deal primarily with the physical. I am not for a moment envious of you that must contend with demonic incursions of the more ethereal variety.”

Vayne groaned audibly. “Just the thought of it makes my feet ache, Brother,” he said. As he expected, Galad couldn’t resist the urge to look.

“Then you ought care for yourself, Brother,” said Galad. “Though an incursion is a serious matter, it is not a critical threat. You do the Order no favors if you wear yourself thin with this investigation.”

Vayne waved his hand. “I know my limits, Brother, and I have yet to reach them. But I shall keep your advice in mind,” he said.

Galad simply nodded. He kept his lips pursed as he pretended to closely peruse the contents of the documents before him. He was trying his hardest, and Vayne had to admire it, but Galad had already slipped once. It was only a matter of time before he slipped up again.

Soon enough, Vayne sensed that Galad was nearing his limit. He jumped on the opportunity and leaned forward to reach for his feet. He was plenty flexible enough to do it even from his seat. As he clasped his fingers around his toes, he massaged them, purposefully doing a bad job, confident that Galad might comment on it.

Galad soon fell prey to his desires and glanced at Vayne’s feet—likely when he thought Vayne wasn’t paying attention. He briefly turned his attention back to his documents before doing a double take and frowning.

“What… What are you doing?” said Galad.

“Hm?” Vayne quirked an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised at Galad’s sudden outburst. “What do you mean, Brother? I am trying to soothe the aching in my feet.”

Galad was silent for a moment, his gaze turning to Vayne as his eyes narrowed. “Like that?” he said.

Vayne blinked, feigning ignorance. “Like what?”

“The Light must have been smiling upon you when they made you Knight-Captain of your own regiment,” said Galad as he shook his head. He turned toward Vayne’s feet and reached for them, a visible tremor in his breath, and a hesitation in his hands as he did so. “Let… Let me.”

“No, Brother, I can’t possibly impose on y—”

Galad lightly swatted at Vayne’s hands and said, “It aggrieves me, the way you’re doing this. You’ll get no relief this way. And besides, the quicker your feet are better, the sooner I’ll have you out of my hair.”

Vayne suppressed a chuckle. Making a show of considerable hesitation, he pulled his hands back and placed them on his lap. “If you insist, Brother, then I will have to thank you properly.”

His access to Vayne’s feet no longer obstructed, and armed with the perfect excuse for what he wanted to do, Galad let his guard down. He must not have noticed how closely Vayne was watching him, because the gluttonous glint in his eye was quite apparent.

“Just…” Galad trailed off for a moment, licking his lips as if he’d forgotten that Vayne was right there while reaching for Vayne’s feet. “When this is finished, leave me to my work. That will be thanks enough.”

Vayne had to give Galad credit. His hands were like magic. His touch was light and surprisingly gentle for a man of his brutish countenance. His fingers traced the contours of Vayne’s feet with an almost reverent delicateness.

“I’ve seen the way you wield a sword, Brother. I never would have imagined you held such softness within you,” Vayne teased.

Galad scoffed at Vayne’s words but it was clear he was only half paying attention. His gaze was fixated on Vayne’s feet, his fingers caressing every toe, and every crevice between them. “To wield true strength is to know restraint. How much strength, and when to exert it, matters more than being able to swing a sword.”

Vayne chuckled. He could scent the faint whiff of arousal in the air as a tinge of pink crept into Galad’s cheeks. “A rare nugget of wisdom, Brother,” he said with a light laugh. “I never would have taken you for a philosopher.”

The color in Galad’s cheeks darkened as he pushed his thumb up against the balls of Vayne’s feet. “That’s a strange way to talk to someone doing you a favor,” he said.

“Begrudgingly so,” Vayne pointed out with a laugh, earning him a scowl from the other. “Not that I am ungrateful. And I certainly meant no offense. It is just that, in the time I have known you, I have only ever known you to be the straightforward sort of man, Brother.”

“That hardly makes me uncultured, Brother,” said Galad. The legs of his chair rasped against the stone floor as he adjusted his position to sit closer to Vayne’s feet. His breathing was uneven, his lips parted as he intently worked Vayne’s soles.

“I suppose not,” said Vayne.

A few minutes passed in silence, during which time Galad adjusted his chair another two times. He’d moved his seat enough that he wasn’t behind his desk anymore, but rather to the side of it.

Vayne kept an eye on Galad while this was happening, of course. He didn’t want to miss anything. And his vigilance was well-rewarded.

After another minute or so passed, Galad was fidgeting in his seat. He raised his eyes for a moment, as if he were about to say something. He stopped himself short, but couldn’t resist for long. Eventually, he overcame his hesitation and turned his gaze to meet Vayne’s.

“This position is somewhat inconvenient, Brother. Would it be too much trouble to move your legs into a more comfortable spot?” said Galad. He managed to sound nonchalant about it, but the way his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated betrayed his anticipation.

Vayne gave Galad a small smile. “Not at all, Brother. Should I move to make it easier?”

Galad shook his head. “Let me.” He said as he stood up to move his chair. He placed it and sat down in such a way that there were no obstructions between him and Vayne. Once he was settled, he tugged Vayne’s legs onto his lap, again licking his lips as if he hadn’t noticed that Vayne was watching him.

Vayne had to hide a smirk. It was almost cute, watching Galad struggle. The man was clearly trying his best to be respectful, but his desires were winning out. He kept shifting, as if uncomfortable in the way he was sitting.

The chair scraped across the stone floor as Galad pulled it closer. The way he ended up sitting once he’d finished adjusting his position, Vayne’s heels could rest most of the way up his lap—and even then, only because he was sitting with his tailbone pressed up against the backrest of his chair.

If Galad so chose, he could have sat in a more natural position. If he had, Vayne’s feet would have pressed right up against his crotch.

It was very much a deliberate choice. Vayne wasn’t stupid. It was juvenile if he was being honest. But considering how sheltered the men of the Order were, it was somewhat impressive that Galad had come up with all this on his own.

The nonchalance was a façade. Vayne could see the bead of sweat trickling down the side of Galad’s face, and could hear the way that the other man’s breath quickened. All it would take was a little bump, small enough that it could be excused with a thoughtless adjustment, and Galad’s crotch would rub right up against Vayne’s soles.

Vayne doubted it would have been satisfying to Galad, but he saw the look in those amber eyes. He was familiar with the desperate hunger he saw in them. He’d experienced it himself, during his captivity, and he knew well enough that Galad would settle for scraps even at this point.

Galad likely wouldn’t have stopped at one bump. He’d have milked the excuse of massaging Vayne’s feet for all it was worth. And during that time, he probably would have kept shifting in his seat, bumping his crotch against Vayne’s soles.

It was forward. Daring. But Vayne supposed it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, considering Galad’s personality. The funny thing was, it would have worked against pretty much anyone else in the Order that he hadn’t already touched.

He’d had enough of playing along. It was time to push the envelope. If he wanted to push Galad into a pit of perversion, he couldn’t keep letting the Knight-Captain set the pace. The perfect opportunity presented itself before long.

Galad’s fingers pressed into the arch of Vayne’s foot, and Vayne jumped on the chance. He willed his whole body to flush. He tossed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. His cock, which he could naturally bring to full arousal at will, formed a visible lump in his breeches. And with the way they were sitting across from each other, there was hardly anything that could hide the bulge in his pants from Galad.

All the while, Vayne moaned. He ensured there would be no mistaking the sound for anything else. Not a groan of relief, and certainly not a pained grunt. He gave it his all, a full-throated moan, the kind that could be heard in the cheapest of whorehouses, pushing every ounce of lewdness that he could muster into his voice.

It had the desired effect. Galad faltered for a moment. He looked up at Vayne, amber eyes trembling. “B-Brother!” he said as a deeper red tinge spread across his cheeks. “H-how could you make such an indecorous sound?”

Vayne sat up. He pretended at embarrassment but made no effort to hide the outline that his stiff cock had formed in his pants. “My apologies, Brother. Something simply overcame me. Your touch, it’s incredible.”

Galad flushed darker. “Your kind words are appreciated, Brother…” He trailed off, remaining silent for a moment as he stared at Vayne’s feet.

The guilt in Galad’s eyes was plain to see. It stayed there even as he spoke, the sternness in his voice thin and faltering “But you know as well as I that the Scriptures preach that restraint is a virtue. Such behavior might be tolerated beyond these walls but we are at Fort Radiance. This is the heart of our Order. Do not forget yourself.”

Vayne chuckled, abandoning the pretense as he eyed Galad with a little smirk. “And as I recall, Brother, honesty is also a virtue espoused by Church teachings.”

The Galad that Vayne knew would have bristled at the mere suggestion of impropriety. But the immediate outburst that would have been in character for him never came. Instead, he lowered his eyes. He couldn’t have looked guiltier if he tried.

It took Galad only a moment to remember himself and who he was talking to. The expected outburst finally materialized, but he sounded more defensive than offended. He glared at Vayne, but there was more anxiety in his eyes than anger. “T-that is—! I—! What, exactly, are you suggesting, Brother Vayne?! Are you calling me a liar?”

“I’ll answer your question with another, Brother,” said Vayne as his smirk widened. “Have you experienced any dreams of a carnal nature of late? Developed any desires the Scriptures would call… unnatural?”

Galad was silent. He tried to maintain his glare, but in the end, he couldn’t help but avert his gaze. He said nothing, just bit his lower lip.

“You can tell me, Brother. No harm will come to you,” said Vayne. He made no secret of the glee that he felt at Galad’s discomfort.

“Y-you are not my confessor!” said Galad as the red in his cheeks reached his ears. “S-such private matters should remain in the sacred confidence of the confessional!”

Vayne laughed. “Come now, Brother. You wouldn’t hide pertinent information when it could be connected to an incursion of infernal forces, would you?”

Galad lowered his gaze.

“Now, I understand that these things may be difficult to speak of, but I will not judge,” Vayne smirked as he pressed on. It was a rare moment to see Galad rendered so speechless. “I will not judge, but I cannot guarantee that your confessor would be so forgiving if he were to learn that you withheld something from me.”

Galad was silent for a long moment. Then, he took a tremulous breath and locked eyes with Vayne. His gaze wavered as he spoke, but he managed to at least sound resolute. “My answer has not changed, Brother,” he said.

Vayne chuckled. “Is that so?” he said. “You should be aware by now that I am very good at finding out mistruths.” He grabbed the armrests of his chair and shifted it forward—not by a lot, but by enough that he could push his feet up against Galad’s crotch.

Sure enough, he felt a lump in the other man’s breeches. It was hidden behind layers of fabric, but no erection could hope to escape his notice. Nor did he miss the way that Galad’s whole body stiffened.

“B-Brother!” said Galad, his gaze snapping up to meet Vayne’s as his eyes widened. “W-what are you—”

Vayne didn’t give Galad the opportunity to muster his composure. He pressed harder with his leg, grinding the balls of his foot against the lump in Galad’s breeches. His other foot, he used to caress the inside of the other man’s thigh.

“B-Brother, this is not what it seems to be…” Galad said as he bit his lower lip and grasped the armrests of his chair.

Vayne smiled at Galad but didn’t relent. “Is it not?” said Vayne, cocking an eyebrow as he did so.

Galad shook his head. His voice was strained when he said, “I-it’s not, Brother. I swear to you.”

“Prove it.”

Galad blanched. The balance of power in the room had never truly biased in Galad’s direction, but the tilt had never been so apparent as at that moment. “Brother, I would not knowingly lie. Light be my witness,” he said, though he all but winced as he said the words.

“I don’t know that,” said Vayne with a little smirk. “And for all I know, Brother, you may have learned to blaspheme on the Light during your tenure as Knight-Captain of the Knights Protector.”

Galad audibly gasped. “Brother, I know we have never seen eye to eye, but…”

Vayne gave Galad an impish little grin. “It should be simple enough to prove whether this”—he pushed with his leg to emphasize his words—“is what I think it is or not.”

Galad hung his head. “W-what would you have me do, Brother?” he said.

Vayne leaned back, resting his elbows on the armrest of his chair. He looked down his nose at Galad and smirked. “Remove your breeches,” he said.

“Brother!” Galad protested. He sounded almost frantic. “The Scriptures say—”

“You are already accused of speaking mistruths and making frivolous oaths on the Light, do not speak to me of Scripture, Brother,” said Vayne. He could not keep all the glee from his voice but he still managed to deliver the words in the strictest tone he could muster.

Galad visibly shivered. “Y-yes, Brother,” he said almost meekly as he clamped his mouth shut and lowered his head. He grabbed Vayne’s legs and moved to set them aside but stopped when Vayne clicked his tongue.

“Keep them there,” said Vayne, sternly. Once his legs were free of Galad’s grasp, he continued what he was doing. He teased Galad’s confined erection with his toes, even as the man undid the laces that tied his breeches closed.

Untying laces should have been second nature. Galad should have been able to do it with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back. And yet, he faltered. He was trying so hard to resist the moan that was no doubt climbing up his throat that he was sweating and stumbling over the simplest task.

Vayne wasn’t particularly inclined to show mercy, either. Between the thick under-breeches that Galad wore and the coarse linen of his pants, the lump of his cock was somewhat indistinct. But with all the jostling, he’d managed to work it into a position where he could rub the balls of his foot back and forth over it.

“Brother, please…” Galad raised his eyes to meet Vayne’s gaze, pleading plain as day in the furrows on his brow.

Vayne cracked a lopsided grin, entirely discounting the sincerity in Galad’s plea, and said, “You are not making a convincing case for your innocence, Brother.”

Galad sighed and lowered his head. He pushed his breeches down his thighs, shimmying them past the widest part and over his knees.

Vayne did little to disguise his open desire as Galad revealed muscular quads so sculpted they looked like they’d been hewn from a block of granite. His own arousal stirred in his breeches as he watched the muscles tremble while he traced his toes, feather-light, along the inside of Galad’s thighs.

Galad had left his underwear on, but without the heavy linen of his breeches to disguise it, the bulge between his legs was as clear as day. It twitched in response to Vayne’s teasing, a growing dark spot at the tip as it pulsed with desperate need.

“B-Brother…” Galad said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “I-It’s not… T-this isn’t because…”

“How much longer will you deny the truth that’s right before my eyes, I wonder, Brother,” said Vayne. “Do you insist that this is not at all what I think it is?”

Galad nodded. He was rarely ever so meek. But the domineering assertiveness he typically wielded with such skill was nowhere to be found.

“And if it isn’t what I think it is, then what is it?” said Vayne as he quirked an eyebrow.

“A-a physical reaction, Brother! N-nothing more!”

Vayne had to admit, he was impressed Galad knew an erection could arise from simple physical stimulation. He’d imagined that the Knight-Captain of the Knights Protector, of all people, would be quite sheltered.

Perhaps Galad was simply one of those men endowed with a higher-than-average libido. It made sense, if so. He likely would have sought the counsel of his confessor, an older Brother named Myklas—a rather worldly fellow, if Vayne’s recollection was sound.

“Remove your underwear, Brother,” Vayne commanded in a tone that brooked no objection.

Galad hesitated. Perhaps it was shame. Perhaps it was pleasure. From the way that Galad’s erection throbbed against Vayne’s foot at the command, there was every chance that it could have been both.

He knew better than to disobey an order, however. Nominally, they were of the same rank, but he was under interrogation. He’d already ceded control over the conversation to Vayne. He had no choice but to obey.

Galad pushed his under-breeches down his legs, but before the garment had even gone more than a few inches, the evidence of his arousal was quite apparent. Exposing the root of his cock was enough to expose his raging erection, and the relative sparseness of his bush made it all the more obscene.

He flushed and kept his head down, shimmying the undergarment down his legs as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of it. He might have avoided further humiliation if his cock hadn’t caught on a fold.

Stubbornly, Galad refused to acknowledge it. Tension built in the fabric bunched up behind his erection, which pointed increasingly toward his knees as he tried to force the matter. It broke free like a spring, flicking up toward Galad’s stomach, throwing off a glistening strand of pre-cum.

Vayne fought back a laugh.

Galad looked mortified.

“It looks to be what I expected,” said Vayne, after giving it a moment for what had happened to truly sink in.

“No, Brother, it—”

Before Galad could finish, Vayne cut in and said, “No?” He pushed his leg forward, pinning Galad’s naked cock between his foot and the bottom of Galad’s tunic.

Galad’s endowment was respectable, Vayne had to admit. It was just a bit longer than his own—before his experiences among the hellborn had changed him, at least—but quite a bit thicker. Funnily enough, it just barely fit into the space between Vayne’s big toe and second toe.

Vayne slotted Galad’s cock into the space between his big toe and the next one. He moved them up and down, brushing the callused balls of his foot along the length of Galad’s straining erection as the corner of his mouth curled in a little smirk. “This does not arouse you?” he said. “This does not make you feel good?”

The knuckles on Galad’s right hand were white from the death grip he had on the armrest of his chair. He was biting down on the knuckles of his other hand as he shook his head from side to side.

Vayne had to give it to Galad. The man was stubborn. He had plenty of tricks up his sleeve, though. He’d barely even scratched the surface. “I see. Then perhaps I was mistaken… But I should do my due diligence, shouldn’t I? Surely, you wouldn’t mind if I took my time to make sure.”

Galad whined. Such an undignified noise didn’t befit a man of his station but if Vayne had to guess, it was between that and a delirious moan. Still, he hadn’t voiced any objections, so Vayne pressed on and said, “I shall take that as consent.”

Vayne smirked. He traced the nails of his free foot along the inside of Galad’s thigh and licked his lips as Galad’s balls tightened up against his body. That little reflex—a trick he’d learned from Azzagg—wasn’t his objective, however.

He caught the bottom hem of Galad’s shirt between his toes. He shifted his chair closer, lifting his leg to expose the other knight’s cobbled stomach. With the fabric out of the way, Vayne could use his toes to pin Galad’s cock against the heat of his belly. Sure enough, it made the other man even harder.

Vayne rubbed Galad’s cock back and forth with his foot, straddling the underside of it with his toes. It was sloppy. Messy. Galad’s cock left a streak of slick across his skin, making him slip side to side as Vayne played with him. But it was enough.

Galad’s resolve crumbled. Though he managed to stay silent to start with, it didn’t take long before little noises slipped through. He whined under his breath and moaned quietly enough for the sound to be muffled by the knuckle he was biting down on.

But Vayne heard anyway, his arousal fanned by the desperation in Galad’s voice. It was always better when they fought their bodies. The war was one they could never win, anyway. Their resistance only made the moment of their breaking all the sweeter.

“Brother, please…” Galad whined. “I’m going to…”

Vayne could tell, of course. Galad’s whole body had tensed. His six-pack had tightened. His balls had drawn up against his body. His cock was pulsing and throbbing like nothing else, pre-cum practically spurting out of the tip.

Galad was on the verge of orgasm, exactly where Vayne wanted him. The ironclad restraint he’d mostly managed to hold onto gradually unraveled. His eyes became glassy. His mouth hung open. His chest heaved with every hot, ragged breath as his tongue lolled out and dribbled drool all over his shirt.

“Brother…” Galad mewled.

Vayne pushed Galad, stroking the other man’s cock with his foot, forcing him to ride the edge until Galad was on the very precipice of orgasm. One more little touch was all it would take to send Galad spilling over, but Vayne stopped just short of giving him what he needed.

“I think this much shall suffice,” said Vayne with a little smirk as he pulled his foot off of Galad’s cock. “I am convinced. This erection is clearly nothing more than a physical reaction. I am sorry to have doubted you, Brother. I shall leave you to regain your dignity, now.”

Vayne would have pulled his legs back had Galad not grabbed him by the ankles right then. Their eyes met and Galad looked truly lost. “Y-you can’t stop now, Brother,” said Galad. “T-this is an important matter. You should do more than is necessary. You said it yourself. Infernal forces are potentially involved!”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Vayne’s mouth. “There is no need, Brother,” said Vayne. “I have determined, to my satisfaction, that you have not been polluted by demonic influence. To do any more than this would be indulgent, and Scripture forbids that.”

The conflict in Galad’s eyes was sweet. The rational part of him probably wanted nothing more than for Vayne to leave, but no man could think so rationally after having been brought to the very brink of orgasm. “You were right, Brother! I deceived you!” he blurted out.

“Oh?” said Vayne, feigning surprise but not bothering to hide the smirk on his lips. “Is that so?”

Galad nodded. He was frantic. “I did,” he said, gulping audibly. The look in his eyes was one of disbelief—as if he couldn’t wrap his head around the words spilling from his mouth. “I told you I’ve felt no unnatural desires, but I have!”

Vayne chuckled. “Such as?”

“My body… It craves things, Brother… Light preserve… It makes me hunger so,” Galad whispered, taking advantage of the fact that he had Vayne’s feet in his grip to surreptitiously rub the head of his cock against Vayne’s soles.

“What things, Brother?” Vayne pressed.

“Toes,” Galad said breathlessly. He looked at Vayne but his gaze was focused elsewhere, his eyes a mile away. “Ankles. Soles. Those delicious arches. Boots. Feet.”

Vayne pressed his lips together and feigned a thoughtful look. “Hm…” he said.

“I-it’s a disease, Brother,” said Galad. The more he spoke, the redder he got. But it was as if the floodgates had broken open. He couldn’t stop. “I cannot get it out of my head. Every waking moment. My body flushes. My cock aches.”

Galad’s hips rolled as he ground his cock insistently against the soles of Vayne’s feet. “I am possessed by desires that I cannot overcome! Every Brother that I meet, I want nothing more than to strip off their boots so that I can see their feet. I want to rub my cock all over their toes and their arches, feel the skin of their soles against my shaft…”

A quiet groan escaped Galad as he closed his eyes and pumped his hips, more deliberately this time, his cock head leaving streaks of slick pre-cum all over Vayne’s feet. “I want them to put their feet together, to fuck my cock through the space between. It’s perverse, I know, but I cannot stop thinking about it. Light help me, Brother, I cannot stop!”

Vayne chuckled. He hadn’t expected that Galad would know these words, much less how to use them. Perhaps he’d been mistaken. Galad might have been more worldly than he thought. Not that it changed a thing.

“Show me,” he said.

Galad’s eyes fluttered open. His gaze snapped to Vayne. What he would see was Vayne flushed, his lips parted, his breathing uneven. Vayne was aroused, no doubt, but he was exaggerating it to put on a show for Galad.

“Brother…” Galad moaned.

“Do it,” said Vayne, angling his feet so he could catch Galad’s shaft between his toes once again. “Show me what you want.”

Permission seemed to be the only thing holding Galad back. As soon as Vayne gave him that, he lost whatever semblance of restraint he had left.

Galad’s grip on Vayne’s ankles tightened. He hunched over his lap, his hips bucking as if he were a bunny in heat. He fucked the space between Vayne’s toes with abandon, eyes rolling back in his head as a deep, throaty moan rumbled through his chest.

Vayne had left Galad close enough to the edge when he stopped the first time that it didn’t take long for Galad to reach it again. This time, Vayne didn’t pull away. He reveled in the sight of Galad’s whole body stiffening, tensing like a spring as the inevitable explosion approached.

And then, Galad came. He threw his head back and moaned, the noise unreservedly desperate as his cock pulsed and throbbed, shooting thick ropes of hot cum all over Vayne’s shins and the backs of his feet.

Vayne licked his lips as Galad came down from his orgasm. This was far from over. His time in hell had changed him. And with those changes came some of the powers of the hellborn. Some of Azzagg’s powers, to be precise.

The more men in the Order fell under his influence, the more those infernal powers returned to him. They weren’t sufficient to take on the Order head-on. Not even had he possessed them in their fullness would he have been able to take down Fort Radiance alone. But they were sufficient to deal with a Brother that had already been rendered susceptible to his advances.

All it took was a thread of power and Galad’s erection, which had begun to flag after his orgasm, was returned to full mast. Galad couldn’t help but groan, of course, his cock pulsing and throbbing as it stiffened and got even harder than before.

Vayne nakedly licked his lips in front of Galad, smirked, and said, “Brother Galad… You are in quite a bit of trouble.”

Galad’s eyes widened as he met Vayne’s gaze and saw the predatory glint behind it. He gulped audibly, his cock twitching and leaking a fresh glob of pre-cum over the top of Vayne’s foot.