Over The Nile (BoyxBoy)

Next Phase

First, I would like to thank everyone for their support, I appreciate everyone for their votes, and comments, you made me want to write more. Thank you so much *Dabs eyes*.

Second, there's a reason for this chapter so don't shoot me *Runs*

He despised the feeling of loneliness that he felt as he laid on his hard bed, the sounds of flutes, oboes and the loud beating of drums.

The music as bands played and the people chanting, "The prince has arrived!" their voice loud as they yelled.

He could hear the merriment of the people and could not help but feel alone in his loneliness.

Sighing he got off the bed and left for the bathroom, since the celebration had started he might as well go to the brothel now.

The bathroom was empty like he had expected, getting into a stall with his bucket of water, he started scrubbing at his skin harshly.

Milah felt as his skin became hot witht every scrub but he didn't stop, he was washing the loneliness away.

Tears ricked out of his eyes as he scrubbed, his heart pounding against his chest he gasped. Dropping the sponge to the floor, he quickly rinsed himself with the water, avoiding his hair.

Stumbling out of the stall in his bathing clothe, he made his way to his quarters, feeling more miserable with each step.

He could hear the shouts and chants but tried to block it out.

This was the same atmosphere that had surrounded him when Khal had left, the chanting, the noise...everything.

He could not breath, panting he gasped for air as he rushed to sit on his bed, his eyes tightened in hardship as he tried to breath, clutching his blankets in his hands as he let what he was feeling pass him by.

It would not be the first time.

"Why do you despise crowds?"

"I just do"

He honestly did. He hated it when he was young; he hated it more so now since Khal left.

Large crowds made him feel trapped; sounds of large crowds made him feel sick.

He remembers crying the night that Khal left, hugging himself in a corner of the slave quarters, the sounds of the crowds making his ear ache.

He could not understand why people were so glad, he felt so miserable and they were there being happy and merry. He deserved to be happy too.

The feeling left his body soon after but the feeling of loneliness did not leave, he was still alone.

Exhaling he pulled on his whoring shirt, an attire he felt shame upon wearing. The length now reaching him on his knees, pulling out the kohl from his sack he applied it around his eyes, taking a deep breath he left his quarters and made his way to the brothel.

His back pushed against a wall as harsh lips pressed up against him, he did not kiss back, he never did.

His dress was peeled off his body in a swift motion, his hair released from its hold; he was moved in the direction of the bed, his knees pushed against it until he fell onto the bed.

Lips returned to his again as coarse hands caressed his body, he did not feel any pleasure, he never did.

His legs were pulled apart and he felt the member of the man slick with oil press into him in slow thrusts, tightening his eyes he held the blankets in a tight grip, his head thrown back as he took it.