Little Moments, #2 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Little Moments

  Book Details

  A Warm Welcome

  Family Reunion

  A Forgotten Face

  Island Respite

  Tatterlay

  The Professor and the Gambler

  Beloved Regent

  Man of the Hour

  Forest Frolic

  At My Side

  Little Moments

  COLLECTED SHORTS OF WHAT COMES AFTER 'THE END'

  VOLUME TWO

  MEGAN DERR

  A collection of ficbits initially posted on Patreon, short tales of life after the happily ever after of the official stories. This volume contains shorts for:

  Three Goats

  The Soldier

  Of Last Resort

  Blood in the Water

  An Exception

  The Matchmaker

  The Engineered Throne

  Gorgon Boy

  Rasnake

  The Royal Inquisitor

  Little Moments

  Volume Two

  By Megan Derr

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Sasha L. Miller

  Cover by Megan Derr

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition April 2020

  Copyright © 2020 by Megan Derr

  Printed in the United States of America

  A Warm Welcome

  THREE GOATS

  Cornelius laughed as he sat down with his just-made cup of tea and saw that both Billie and Matt had fallen asleep in the middle of eating their pie. He clucked his tongue. "Silly goats."

  "Sounds like they had a long day," Robbie said, and set aside his own empty plate to pick up Billie, slinging him over one shoulder and then climbing the ladder to the loft. When he came back down, he nudged Matt, who sleepily heaved to his feet and shuffled off to the loft himself.

  Robbie, predictably, finished off their half-eaten slices of pie before clearing away all the dishes to be taken out and washed in the morning and ensured the house was locked up tight for the night.

  Then he strode right over to Cornelius, took away his tea, pulled him out of his big cozy chair, and stole the seat, dragging Cornelius down into his lap. "I've missed this—you—so much."

  "I don't recall this ever being a thing," Cornelius said dryly, but went easily when Robbie pulled him into a kiss that tasted of apples and cinnamon and home.

  Robbie nuzzled his cheek as they drew apart. "Always wanted to do it, sit right here like this with you. Never worked up the nerve."

  Cornelius gave into the urge to drape his arms around Robbie's neck and leaned into him, more delighted with this new arrangement than he would ever, ever admit. "Learned some boldness in the city, did we?" he asked teasingly. "Pretty boys and girls teach you a few things?"

  "Yeah, that city folk are loud, demanding, and rude." Robbie stroked and caressed him, so much like he had every time they'd cuddled beneath an apple tree and exchanged kisses. "I had a few offers, especially a couple of interesting ones from some fancies. But I told every last one I had a sweetheart back home, and he was a forest lord, and they couldn't compare."

  "You did not," Cornelius said, face flushing, warmth filling him that had nothing to do with the fire and everything to do with the silly goat boy holding him. "I'm not a forest lord."

  "Forest lord enough, and definitely my sweetheart." Robbie tilted his head up and kissed him again. "Though I admit I thought I'd have to work harder to get back into your good graces."

  Cornelius squashed his nerves like he would an insect invading his stores, and murmured in Robbie's ear, "You'd better work hard. The children are asleep, it's been three years, and I'm tired of only having my hands."

  "You're an evil brat," Robbie said breathlessly, though there was no mistaking the sudden interest that Cornelius was sitting on. "Want to finish your tea?"

  "I don't care about the stupid tea." Cornelius kissed, hard and messy and eager, suddenly desperate now that he'd finally voiced what they'd been dancing around since the other two had fallen asleep.

  Robbie heaved to his feet, still holding fast to Cornelius, who clung for dear life, and headed off toward the bedroom. Cornelius called out the words that activated the spell for putting out the fire, and for lighting the lamps in the bedroom. Being a half-human wood sprite who studied magic had its benefits.

  "Mercy. You couldn't manage that before."

  "I worked hard to get all these fine new muscles," Robbie said smugly. "Couldn't come home all soft and useless, could I?" Once in the bedroom, he set Cornelius on his feet and kissed him, cupping his head and feasting on his mouth like it was a second dessert.

  Cornelius keened and clung tightly, still unable to believe that Robbie was home, had willingly come home, had kept his promise. He pushed, breaking the kiss but sending Robbie toppling onto the bed, and made short work of his own clothes. Robbie's eyes widened, trousers tenting obscenely. "Cornelius…"

  "You've got a lot of time to make up for," Cornelius replied, and knelt to remove Robbie's socks and tug at the ties of his trousers. He pulled them down, intending to pull them off, but was distracted completely by the bared cock, hard and red and wet-tipped. He swallowed, tried to tamp down on the resurgence of nerves.

  They'd only been together once like this, before Robbie had left, and they hadn't really done much that time, both too eager and unsure. But Cornelius had done a great deal of reading in the past three years, and he was determined.

  Robbie chuckled softly, and carded a hand through his hair. "I can't tell if you're scared or delighted. But if it's the first, get up here so I can do some of the things I've been thinking about."

  "I'm right where I want to be," Cornelius replied, and with a deep breath braced his hands on Robbie's thighs and slowly swallowed his cock. He couldn't go far, and Robbie stretched his mouth nearly to the point of pain, but the way Robbie moaned his name, the way the fingers in his hair tightened briefly, almost pulling, made it all worthwhile.

  Cornelius pushed up on his knees a little more, took him a little deeper, sucked a little harder, using his right hand to stroke and tease what his mouth couldn't cover.

  He probably wasn't very good at it, but Robbie seemed pleased, to judge by the moans and cries, the way he thrust into Cornelius's mouth when he forgot himself. Cornelius flushed, pleased and excited that he must be doing something right. He really wanted to see if he could get Robbie to come, as last time they'd wound up just thrusting messily against each other.

  Then Robbie abruptly pulled out, pulled away, and Cornelius rose, backing away in mortification, face still hot but no longer from excitement. "Sorry. What did I do wrong—"

  Robbie surged up, dragged him, and kissed him so thoroughly that Cornelius swore his lips were left tingling. "Wrong?" He laughed. "If that was wrong, I'll never survive you doing it right."

  "Why did you stop it then?"

  Dragging him over to the bed, Robbie lay him down on it, pushed his legs apart, and settled between them. "Because I really, really want to fuck you, and I'm not sure I have the energy to get hard twice right now. Not after traveling all day."

  "Oh," Cornelius said, worries dissipating. He licked his lips and said, "I, uh, have something for that. I bought it from Master Vincent. Just for me, I mean. Not anyone else."

  "I wouldn't have blamed you if there had been someone else, you know. I half-expected to come home to find you'd found someone who had the sense not t
o leave you in the first place."

  "Shut up, you stupid goat," Cornelius said, dragging him down into a ravenous kiss that he hoped made clear he had no interest in anyone else. Just his sweet, earnest apple thief who'd come home to him as promised. "Let's see what you can do, Mr. I'm a Fancy City Boy Now."

  "I am not." Robbie bit at his lips, then his jaw, then worked his way lower, pinning Cornelius's hands down when he tried to push him away because it was all delightfully too much. "Nuh-uh. I thought about this all the time while I was away. Sitting by the fire. Helping you pick apples. Dragging you into a proper bed and seeing if I could get you to scream."

  "You get me to scream, you get to explain to your brothers why."

  Robbie laughed. "Like they don't know what I do with the Troll Lord when they're asleep or not around. We raise goats, Cornelius. We learn pretty quickly what's what."

  Cornelius's face burned. "Stop talking and do what's what before I toss you out of this bed, Robbie Gruff."

  That got him an absolutely marvelous grin, hot and shiver-inducing. Then the brat put his mouth right back to leisurely work, tasting, kissing, and occasionally nipping at what seemed to be every stitch of Cornelius's skin. "You—" He gasped and writhed. "You weren't like this when you left, I swear. Not a complaint, mind."

  Robbie gave a torturous lick to his cock, then drew back to rest on his heels. "I rented a room in this massive house that was mostly full of… well, prostitutes. They were happy to tell me things, explain as much as they could. They offered demonstrations, but I turned that down."

  "You—" Cornelius laughed. "Of all the places in the city, and you asked them those kinds of questions!"

  Robbie leaned down to kiss him, bracing himself to hover over Cornelius. "Course I did. Had amends to make, didn't I? Now stop distracting me." He kissed Cornelius's nose, then his mouth, and then pushed away to fetch the oil from the basket that Cornelius pointed him to.

  Then he settled between Cornelius's legs again, as easily as if he was meant to be there, or had been there a hundred times already. The first was definitely true, and the second wouldn't take long to make true.

  Slicking his fingers, Robbie gently pushed one inside. Too gently. Cornelius groaned and rolled his hips to take it deeper. "More. I can fit three of my own in there, you know."

  Robbie's groaned drowned out his, and he gripped the base of his cock with his free hand. "Don't say stuff like that or this is all gonna end too soon."

  "Already taking too long you ask me," Cornelius replied, and laughed when that got him a playful swat on the thigh. "Maybe I should—" He broke off with a cry as Robbie shoved two fingers inside him and twisted them just so.

  "Better?" Robbie asked smugly.

  Cornelius just moaned some more and tried to get more.

  Thankfully, Robbie was happy to provide, stretching and tormenting and hitting that spot over and over, until Cornelius was sweaty and trembling and aching. "Now, you damn goat, before you're left to fend for yourself."

  Grinning that delightful wolfish grin again, Robbie withdrew his fingers, lined up his cock, and gently but swiftly pushed inside. He groaned, muffling the noise in the hollow of Cornelius's throat, kissing and nuzzling as he slowly began to move, withdrawing slightly and thrusting back in.

  Cornelius clung to his sweaty back, panting against his shoulder as he met every thrust, took him as deep as he could manage, riding the high of being so thoroughly fucked by this man he'd been certain would never come back to him. Because who would choose a half-sprite apple farmer in a dead-end little village when there was a whole city to choose from?

  Robbie would, and had, and Cornelius wanted to stay right there like that forever, savoring the lust, the love, the need, the simply happiness of finally being back together.

  One more hard thrust was all it took to send him over the edge, and he mostly muffled his shout in Robbie's shoulder, shuddering through his climax and holding on tightly as Robbie thrust into him a few more times and came, moaning his name against his skin.

  Cornelius's eyes stung briefly as he simply lay there, calming down and cooling off, holding Robbie close all the while.

  Eventually Robbie rolled off him, though he stayed close, pulling Cornelius right up against that broad chest and nuzzling his hair. "So am I back in your good graces?"

  "I don't know," Cornelius replied with a smile. "Somebody promised presents and then never—"

  "Your present!" Robbie bolted from the bed like he'd just been told a stable was on fire, leaving Cornelius staring after him. He returned after a few minutes, and hastened back into the bed, with such ease that one might have thought it had been their bed longer than a few minutes.

  Would he move to their house? Would the Gruffs move to his? Was he getting ahead of himself?

  "Here," Robbie said, thrusting a box into his hands.

  It was made of gleaming wood, with rounded corners, and a stamp burned into the top, a crest Cornelius didn't recognize. He flipped the little catch and lifted the top—and stared.

  It was a necklace. No, a locket. It was silver, etched on the front with two tiny apples. He picked it up gingerly and held it up to let the light catch it—and saw there was writing on the back. My Home.

  Cornelius lowered the necklace as his eyes blurred. "You jerk."

  Robbie chuckled and took the necklace from his slack fingers, and affixed it around his neck, where it fell to nestle in his collar bone. "Sorry you hate it."

  Wiping his eyes, Cornelius then dragged him down into a kiss that he hoped conveyed just how much he hated it. "You were supposed to be paying off debts, not buying me silly things."

  "I could do both. I never once faltered on the debts; I just earned extra wherever I could so I didn't come home entirely empty handed. Wait until you see the other presents, and all the money I managed to save. We shouldn't have any trouble for a long time, if we're smart and careful."

  Cornelius curled his fingers around the necklace, already excited for the morning, when he could cut a lock of Robbie's hair to keep in it. "I don't need presents, or money. Just you, Robbie Gruff."

  "You've got me," Robbie replied. "I'm home, that's where I'm going to stay. Though I hope you don't mind you're going to be stuck with a whole lot of goats around, since I'm pretty sure you wouldn't enjoy us moving to your place. The goats like it better here anyway."

  "I'm used to goats." He pushed Robbie into the bedding and peppered him with kisses, like he had so many times after they'd spent their day apart and only met up as dark was falling. "Welcome home."

  Family Reunion

  THE SOLDIER

  "Captain."

  Grigori turned around from the rack of swords he was going over with his second-in-command, a smart, handsome woman who was more than happy to knock heads around if that's what it took to keep rowdy soldiers in line. He stared at the anxious-looking servant waiting for his attention. "What is it?"

  "There is someone here to see you; he says he is your brother?"

  A cold knot formed in Grigori's stomach. Emil was here? To see him? "I'll come see him."

  "Yes, Captain. He awaits you in the yellow parlor."

  "Thank you."

  Leaving Zlata to continue working on inventory, Grigori tidied up his already perfect clothes, ran a hand through his hair, and with a long sigh went to see why in the world his brother—the brother who hated him, despised him so much he'd ordered him whipped 300 times—wanted to speak with him.

  His back was turned when Grigori stepped into the room. Emil had always been big—of build, of presence, of ideas, of ego. He towered over everyone, beckoning them to him on purpose and unwittingly.

  Instead of the uniform he'd been wearing when last Grigori had seen him, however, he was dressed in the more familiar homespun clothes they'd both grown up in. So he must have returned to their parents' farm. How strange to see his brother, the powerful, soldierly figure he'd admired for so long until finding out he went around pretending he had no
family, returned to their humble roots, while Grigori stood in palace finery.

  He cleared his throat, and Emil turned, emotions flickering over his face before he settled into the carefully trained composure of a soldier. "Grigori. Or would you prefer Captain?"

  "My name is fine; you're my brother, after all."

  "Yes," Emil said slowly. "I am."

  Grigori stepped further into the room and closed the door. "What do you want, Emil? I can't think you want to see me, given the last words you said to me."

  Emil winced. "I was stupid, and wrong. I was never going to let anyone whip you, Grisha—Grigori. I'd already ordered the punishment reduced to latrine duty for a month, and I wasn't even going to make you do that."

  "That's not the point," Grigori replied, though it was good to hear that for all his stupid posturing, Emil hadn't actually ever intended to hurt him. "Why did you insist on convincing everyone you were an only child?"

  Thunderclouds filled Emil's face. "Because for once in my damned life, I wanted people to see me and not my oh-so-perfect little brother, smarter and stronger and better looking—better everything—than me. You came along and Father and Mama may as well have forgotten I existed, and everyone else followed in their footsteps. In the army I was me."

  Grigori stared at him, mouth agape. "Emil… why didn't you just talk to me. I didn't know you saw it that way, that you felt—were—treated so. I looked up to you. Just wanted my big brother to think something of me that was positive." He sighed and went to sit down, motioning for Emil to do the same. "You should have talked to me."

  "I am trying now," Emil said as he took the nearby seat, a small table between them. "I should have done so sooner, but since being released from duty and returning to the farm, I have been busy with a great many problems. That is one of the reasons I've come to see you." He grimaced. "It's not the reason I wanted to come, please understand. But we've been left with no choice."

  "Tell me," Grigori said, frowning.

  Emil spread his hands. "There is someone stealing from our winter stores—personal, as well as the village stores to which we all contribute. We have asked the nearby city garrison for help many times, but they never come. I have even gone to see them a few times, and still no one ever comes, and in the meantime the village's winter stores continue to be taken, to the point we will not have nearly enough to get us through. I did not want to come bothering you, especially with our history—my mistakes—but I was left with no choice."