You Are What You Eat

“You are what you eat,” the girl mouthed slowly. She pulled herself up onto her toes and stared into light blue eyes. “That’s what Aunt Katina told me.”

He took a second to smile at her. Only briefly acknowledging the attention-craving girl, so as to not ignore the scones for too long and then there was the tea that needed attending to too.

“So if girls are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, is that what I’m supposed to eat?” she was eyeing the sugar, Riff was currently pouring into the batter. “If so, then I want nothing but sugar for dinner— Oh! How about that cherry cake you make soooo well?” She flashed her eyelashes at him and smiled serenely for a first-hand attempt. He was well-aware that she had more approaches then just the one.

“That’s up to your brother, don’t you think?”

“Ohhh,” she scowled darkly at him, then, remembering her lady-like manners, “So?”

“I serve Lord Cain, Miss Mary.”

“Hmph.” She turned around and slammed herself onto a chair he had brought in the kitchen at her request. She raised her nose a bit in the air, “If that rule applies, then Cain should be allowed nothing but a diet rich in snakes and snails and puppy dog tails!”

“But he does eat snails, Miss Mary.” Nope, the water had yet to boil. He went back to the cooling room and removed a fresh set of cherries from its bleak compartment. He washed them in a bowl and then held it out to Maryweather. She promptly took it from him and popped one into her mouth. “And I’ve also heard some people eat dogs.”

“Eww!” Maryweather swallowed her half-chewed cherry and wiped her chin of the cherry juice drool that ran down it only moments before.

“Yeah, and I heard they use grinded snakes in medicine.” Cain entered the room with his jacket and mud-ridden shoes still on. Riff automatically wiped his hands on the towel next to the scone mix and went to attend to the young earl.

“They do not!” the young girl squealed in disgust.

He took the jacket off his lord’s shoulders with the boy assisting by shrugging out of the coat. Riff draped it over his right arm and proceeded to remove Cain’s shoes from his feet, slightly taking note of the trail of muddy prints he left in the hallway over the recently polished floor and the freshly vacuumed carpet. Riff took the shoes and handed them to a maid, directing her to wash them off outside in the back of the garden and out of sight.

He proceeded to direct another maid, who was walking the premises with a vase of fresh water for the flowers in the halls, to rinse the carpet of the prints. Folding the jacket over his arm gingerly, Riff handed it to a butler with the specific directions to take the coat to the dry cleaners. His master was busy arguing with his younger sister by the time he stepped back in the kitchen. He listened quietly as he began to pour hot water into two tea cups.

“They do too. Don’t they, Riff?” Cain asked, turning to look at Riff.

“Of course, milord.” Riff replied, not looking up as he poured the tea until he was positive Cain had stopped watching him. His blue eyes settled on the smug look on the young teenager’s face and he couldn’t help but smile a little.

“He’s just agreeing with you, because you pay him!” Maryweather shot back accusingly, “Right, Riff?”

“It’s just as you say, Miss Mary.” Riff nodded.

“Ha— Hey!” Maryweather almost lost her balance, trying to snatch back the cherries Cain had just stolen from her.

“Whose side are you on anyways?” Cain asked, swallowing a cherry he had in his mouth still. He looked at Riff.

“Yours, as always, milord.” Riff bowed to him, before bringing out the silver tray. He placed the two tea cups upon it and the tea pot. He retrieved a little bit of sugar for the two to use. And then, for his own amusement, laid out an uneven amount of lightly-buttered, thin, bread slices.

Maryweather hopped up from her chair and followed Riff out to the living room. Cain followed her and the two bickered as Cain apparently wanted more of the cherries she still had. He could always offer the young lord some, but Riff found this a little more amusing.

“Hey, hey!” Cain shouted, “Would you look at that?”

“What?” Maryweather swiveled her head to check out the area Cain had pointed at. He reached for her cherries while she was distracted.

SMACK!

And Lord Cain was now complaining about how his hand hurt and, as is his normal manner, now pointing out that there should be some compensation. He went to extend his hand to Maryweather’s bowl again and she consequently swallowed the remainder whole.

“Oh well,” Cain shrugged, turning his head away with a look of indifference, “At least I won’t be growing cherry trees out of my ears for swallowing the seeds.”

“Oh, Cain,” Maryweather snarled back, “Everyone knows that’s a myth!”

But still she walked closer to Riff, glaring back at Cain. Riff set the tray down on the coffee table and Maryweather and Cain subsequently sat down. He handed each their tea cup and, as he handed Maryweather hers, she stopped him.

“I won’t REALLY grow cherry trees out of my ears, right, Riff?” her pleading eyes were staring at him in fright.

He chuckled quietly, “No, Miss Maryweather. He’s just pulling your leg.” She relaxed a bit and sighed a breath of relief.

“Will that be all?” Riff stood up, looking, in turn, from Cain to Maryweather. Maryweather shook her head and Riff had the pleasantries to see Cain hide a smirk suddenly behind the tea cup. He shook his head as he looked back up with a serene grin.

“We’ll call if we need you.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________

Riff went back into the kitchen and noticed a maid had picked up working on the scones and another was cleaning the kitchen. He left out through the back to take a small walk as he went to retrieve the mail from the front of the gate (Cain had no reason to trust mailmen).

He took a deep breath and let the smell of the garden fill his lungs. The rain yesterday still left its lingering smell on the pebbles at the roses’ feet. He made it a point to walk the gravel path, so as not to carry back in the work of the rain with him. He watched the gray clouds roll serenely by in the sky and, even though the sun was well hidden behind them, he could still see the light dispersed through the sky.

He pulled the mail from the mailbox with a bit of effort. He stared at the assaulting package and half acknowledged Lord Cain must have bought another poison. His eyes drifted towards where the chickens were kept for supper. He really needed to find a way of keeping them away from his lord or one day Cain would find himself accidently poisoned.

Riff leafed through the rest of the mail and noted that they were bills. He took the path back through the kitchen and sat down at one of the counters, using the chair he had originally brought in for Maryweather. The maid, who took over the scones, quickly looked up and spotted him. She went back to work, but he noticed that she kept looking back over to him.

Placing the bill he was currently working on paying on the table, he looked up and cleared his throat. “Is something the matter?”

“N-no!” she jumped, not expecting him to talk to her, although she obviously needed to. “Well, it’s just… I finished the crust, but I’m not sure about the filling.”

“Make it lemon custard,” Riff dully answered, “And pour a little bit of chocolate over it for Miss Maryweather.”

“Thank you, sir,” the maid sincerely said, and she turned to finish creating the scones.
She managed to finish just as Riff finished paying off the bills. He leaned back in the chair before standing up to retrieve the new silver tray from her. “I’ll take it to Lord Cain.”

She nodded with a smile and went about cleaning up after herself. Riff turned with the tray and walked towards a cupboard, he pulled out two small plates and laid them down next to the plate holding the scones. Then, pushing the door open with his back, Riff left the kitchen in the hands of the maid. As he suspected, neither Maryweather nor Lord Cain were occupying the sitting room any longer.

From a window, as he walked towards the staircase, Riff noticed a flap of a skirt and heard the voice of a little girl singing. He smiled as he turned to see Maryweather appear on a swing to disappear behind the view given by the window. Riff left through the kitchen door again and made his way outside.

“Miss Maryweather,” he called from the outdoors table that had been left out for occasions like these. He stared at the direction of the sun, noticing its rays peaking shyly from behind the trees that would set a little too soon for the girl who had stopped singing.

She charged out of the brush to the grunted dismay of her attending maid and ran to throw her arms lovingly around Riff. He noticed her stockings were covered in more mud than Cain’s shoes had been upon his arrival home that afternoon.

“Riff!” she gurgled into his jacket, she pulled herself off, “Thank you for the snack!” She curtsied as she had been instructed by her Aunt Katina to do in these incidents and Riff found it a stark contrast between her muddy stockings.

“Enjoy, Miss Maryweather,” Riff bowed to her before picking the tray up to give the remainder to his lord. As he passed the maid he reminded her to wash the hands of the greedy girl who was now hungrily eyeing the sweet delicacy. Then, upon second thought, told her to wash her afterwards too.

He was back in the house in little time and trudging up the steps to his master’s bedroom. The package had been delivered up to his room earlier and Riff was sure Lord Cain had torn the package to shreds and was now playing with the new poison. He rapped his free hand against the door before proceeding to enter.

Cain was lying on his bed, propped up on his elbow with a book resting in front of him. He looked up at Riff and then struggled to a sitting position. He grinned widely as Riff set the tray out on Cain’s bedside table. He began to move a few of the scones onto the plate when Cain leaned over and snatched one.

“These are good,” he commented. He sucked on the tip of his thumb before turning to situate Riff between his legs and holding it up to the surprised manservant’s lips. “Go on,” Cain laughed, “It tastes good.”

Riff bit off a piece and ate it before silently agreeing with Cain. The maid had made the chocolate warm and it ran along the roof of his mouth, cool compared to the custard that oozed from the fluffy, flaky crust. He swallowed a bit and nodded his approval before turning back to finish loading the small plate for his master.

Cain rested his small hand on Riff’s arm. “No,” he spoke quietly, drawing out each word, “You feed me.”

Cain lay down backwards on his bed and pushed himself with his hands and feet to bring his legs onto the mattress. Riff turned his head slightly to stare at the wall above the scones, trying with all his might to not watch Cain roll himself upwards into the air. He tugged slightly at his collar and Cain was sitting up again, leaning nonchalantly back on his arms.

“Hot, Riff?” he extended his arms for his manservant to come to him.

“Yes, milord,” Riff answered, moving in reach of the boy. Cain’s fingers ran cool against Riff’s skin and he shivered, trying to ignore the pressure he felt building in his groin.

Cain’s nimble fingers began to undo Riff’s shirt and he let his eyes gaze towards the wall past Lord Cain’s shoulders. “Then why don’t you undo your shirt? It won’t do either of us any good if you heat up and pass out.”

“Of course, milord. I’m sorry.” Riff mentally slapped himself as Cain’s fingers paused in their work. Cain had never seemed to appreciate Riff’s need to apologize for everything that went wrong. After all, Riff couldn’t be held accountable for everything, and if he needed to apologize then he could’ve stopped it by not doing it in the first place. It irked Cain to no end.

“Well, there.” Cain admired Riff’s exposed chest, emerald eyes dancing with gold upon his skin. “Isn’t that better?” His stunning eyes bore into Riff.

He swallowed and cursed himself for the blood pounding in his ears. “Yes.”

“Good.” Cain ran his hand along Riff’s lower abdomen and slowly rolled them over his shoulders. His white shirt tumbled off their posts and slid down against his arms slowly. Riff let it slide off instead of fighting to keep it on— there really didn’t seem to be a point.

Cain smiled at him and leaned backwards onto the bed again. “Well, I’m waiting, Riff.”

Riff turned away from Cain and back towards the dish of scones. His face becoming red at the mere whisper of imagery those words brought to his mind. He shoved them deep down in his conscious and picked up the plate gingerly.

He crawled over Lord Cain and kept himself balanced on his knees above the boy. He picked up a scone and held it to Cain. Noticing his eyes were closed, he tapped the baked good gently against Cain’s mouth. Cain opened his mouth and took a bite off the scone and chewed slowly.

Cain continued in this fashion leaving Riff to slowly lower his body against his young master’s— his legs too tired to hold him in their initial position for long. When Riff had finally put a little pressure onto Cain, he moaned and his body rolled against Riff’s. Riff shot back upwards and stuttered a quick apology.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Cain sat up a little and cocked his head to the side, “I was just surprised by the contact.” And Riff found himself doubting those words.

“Here’s the last one,” Riff held it out to Cain’s lips. Suddenly, to Riff’s amazement, Cain opened his mouth and slowly ran his mouth over the scone. He ate the rest of the delicacy in two bites. Riff stared at Cain, shocked by how much he could take in and the grace with which he could do so. Or was it seduction…? Riff found his groin pulse again and he bit back a groan, trying to find somewhere in his brain to store the thought. But his whole mind was wrapped around that one image.

“You know,” Cain fingered Riff’s leg while his eyes dropped, “I’m still hungry.” His green, gold-flecked eyes pierced Riff thoroughly as his hand closed over Riff’s crouch.

Riff would have let out a yelp, but his mouth was incredibly dry so nothing came out. However, in the moment his mouth opened, Cain had pushed his weight into the manservant and was now on top of him. His tongue quickly breeched Riff’s mouth and Riff squirmed a bit.

But the saliva from Cain’s mouth was… warm. Almost erotically so. And even then, the boy tasted like chocolate. Riff kissed back wanting nothing more than Cain’s tongue to stay in his mouth forever. Yet he found himself leaning the teenager against his bed and shoving his tongue deep into the cavity of the boy’s mouth.

And Cain moaned into the kiss, causing Riff to painfully arouse with excitement. He pushed himself against Cain and ran his tongue against the roof of Cain’s mouth. Cain’s tongue ran against the bottom of Riff’s in need. Riff swirled his tongue around Cain’s and Cain sucked on it longingly.

The boy’s hands were twisted in Riff’s hair as the manservant was now on top of the boy again. His arms holding him above while his head craned down into the too seductive kiss. Cain twisted his fingers tightly in Riff’s hair and tugged backwards at the blue hair, but Riff really didn’t feel like he wanted to breathe again.

His tongue ran slowly along the ridge of Cain’s mouth into the soft back of his mouth. Cain gagged slightly and moaned at the gentle touch of Riff’s tongue against his. He tugged again and this time Riff broke apart the kiss in a slight bit of pain from the pull.

“God!” Cain breathed deeply, quickly falling into a pant. “Oh, God…”

Riff twitched slightly on his arms, wanting nothing more than to go back to deeply kissing Cain. Cain pulled Riff back down by the neck into the kiss, leaving his mouth unguarded for the older man. Riff’s tongue pushed back against Cain’s and Cain swirled his tongue around Riff’s. Riff’s tongue leapt upwards as the blood poured into his lower region. He closed his eyes and moaned at the sensation— temporarily listening to the sound of his quickening heartbeat.

Cain pushed his hand against Riff’s chest and Riff automatically complied with moving. Cain hadn’t fully caught his breath when he had pulled Riff back to him and he found he needed to catch his breath too.

Riff listened to the quieting of Cain’s breathing back to its regular pace, if not, a bit shakier. He was stroking the young, beautiful face beneath him. Cain caught his hand and pulled it away. “I said,” he breathed a little heavier, “that I was still hungry…”

Riff had gone to get up before it fully hit him what Cain had truly meant. Too late, he had let his guard down upon moving. Cain slammed his body into Riff’s and they both tumbled off the bed with a few of the sheets sliding haphazardly off with them. Riff let out a choked cry as Cain landed on his stomach, taking his breath with the impact.

Cain smiled down at him in triumph and kissed him on the mouth gently before moving between Riff’s legs. “You could make this easier if you actually sat on the bed.” He remarked, “And if you hadn’t tried to leave.”

“I didn’t realize,” Riff huffed, “that you meant THAT.”
Cain grinned wickedly and got off of Riff. “Well, go on. Up on the bed.” He patted his bed while smiling all the while at the fallen man. Riff struggled upright and pulled himself up onto the bed, leaning back slightly winded.

Apparently, this was all fine-and-dandy for Cain who sat up on his knees to begin unbuttoning Riff’s pants. He ran his hand inside the pants and bloomers and wrapped his hands around Riff’s growing erection. Riff nearly choked at the sensation and he struggled to rise, but before he could he felt a warm feeling embrace where the cold one had left off. Riff cried out in alarm and he felt his mind shut down entirely at the feeling of Cain’s lips against him.

He collapsed against the bed and his hands almost automatically knotted into what fabric was still loosely left clinging onto Cain’s bed. Cain hummed slightly against Riff and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe any more. His lungs felt powerless to the small vibrations Cain was sending along his length. His spine arched in need and he dragged his balled fists (with the sheets) to his face as he huffed.

Cain pulled himself away and Riff had to swallow hard as the cool bedroom air enclosed around him. A small, tingling warmth ran under his cock and Riff tensed. Cain pulled away again and then ran his tongue along another area of Riff’s shaft. Finally, after this teasing game, Cain gently ran his tongue against the head before closing his mouth over the sensitive organ. He liked the pulsing feeling he was getting off of Riff’s body and he wanted to hum, but he didn’t want Riff to climax yet. After all, the afternoon was still quite young.

He circled his tongue around slowly, massaging Riff’s sensitive organ. Riff twitched again and Cain placed one of his hands on Riff’s knee before moving his hand to play with Riff’s testicles. He heard a slight disgruntled cry from his manservant, but he continued on anyways.

Riff’s lower lip was tingling with the sensation of blood running down it, but his mind was unsure of where it wanted to go. In the cloud of sex floating up around him, he felt numb to its powerful suggestion. And Cain being at his knees was not helping any. He groaned as he felt himself harden at the thought.

He suddenly shot upright when Cain ran sharp teeth along his member before biting down. He bent over Cain’s body and Cain shivered at the warm air Riff breathed onto the nape of his neck. Riff gently nipped the back of Cain’s neck and the younger boy let out a startled yelp.

Trying to ignore the soft, distracting kisses being placed along his neck and head, Cain went back to sucking on Riff’s cock. However, he soon fell into just being able to suck as he paid attention to the feeling of Riff’s lips against his skin.

Riff’s tongue playful licked at Cain’s ear and he shuddered again. Cain closed his eyes again and began to hum in content. Riff froze against him and Cain’s laugh, caught in his throat, caused Riff to grope onto Cain’s shoulders. Cain smiled and pulled himself away to give Riff a kiss on the lips. He wiped the blood away from Riff’s white lips, but only succeeded in smearing it. He sucked on Riff’s lower lip and drained the substance off while Riff moaned at the soreness of the wound he himself had bitten.

Cain squeezed his lower region once and Riff broke the kiss with a gasp as Cain settled back to finish what he started. He ran his tongue over Riff’s length and began sucking hard and needy on his member. Riff’s finger’s whitened with the pressure he was applying to Cain’s shoulders. Cain winced, but he readjusted to the pain quickly.

He kept his mouth over Riff’s cock and began to hum loud— alternating between long and fast to slow and melodic. He ran his tongue in slow, predatory circles to the base of Riff’s shaft. Riff struggled a little and Cain nipped him to beckon him to stay still. Riff seemed to oblige and Cain continued to slowly get his tongue between Riff’s cock and his testicles. The one spot of irrepressible pleasure that he knew would drive Riff over the edge.

He was right. When he ghosted his tongue over the area, Riff straightened off of Cain’s back. Cain applied more pressure and Riff blushed as he began to forcibly slide himself in and out of Cain’s mouth. Cain waited with eyes closed until he felt the semi-sticky substance within the cavity of his mouth. He swallowed it down and was surprised at the rather bitter taste of the matter, but happy none-the-less at whose it was.

Riff was bent over in exhaustion, panting hard. Cain stood up on shaky legs and was shocked to realize he was sticky himself. He shifted uncomfortably in his stance, but there was no way to make the semen between his own legs comfortable. Cain pushed the thought aside and placed his hand again upon Riff’s upper leg. His manservant looked up into those green eyes that seduced him so well.

Cain pecked him on his sweat-covered cheek and brushed light-blue strands of hair out of Riff’s face. “I need a bath,” Cain commented, turning away suddenly. But he looked back over his shoulder and, before he left to his bathroom, “If you care to join me.”
Riff watched the door shut, before he shakily stood up to follow Cain into his bathroom.
_________________________________________________________________________________________

Moments later, the two were done with fondling each other in the bath tub. They were quite finished with cleaning their bodies while polluting the other’s mind with dirty words and even dirtier promises. Riff had neatly transitioned into his pajamas, which Cain had ordered a butler attending the hallways to retrieve without any questions. Cain, who was sincerely hungry now, decided Riff’s discarded shirt on his bedroom floor would suffice as clothing.

Riff laughed while looking at the garment hanging loosely from his shoulders. Cain threw an annoyed look over his shoulder at Riff, “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, milord.” Cain trotted over to Riff and pulled him down to his eye level by the shirt collar of his pajamas.

“Yeah, because I wasn’t the one who just bit his lip during sex like a virgin.”

“I wasn’t the one who spent at least thirty minutes on his knees giving a blow job like a servant.” Cain looked indignant. Riff smiled at him. Cain let go and turned around, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. Riff hugged him from behind, “I’m sorry, Lord Cain, but surely you had to realize you weren’t going to win that argument.”

Cain smiled, “Aw, well, I still got what I wanted out of today.”

“As always, milord.”

Cain grinned, “Come on. I’m hungry.”

“Again?”

“WHAT!?” Cain looked at him in surprise, “You’re ready to go again!?!”

“Relax, Lord Cain, I was joking.” And he preceded a disgruntled Cain, who was complaining about rude comments, out of the bedroom. Cain continued throwing complaints at Riff’s back all down the stairs until they reached the landing and Riff hushed him for the sake of the little girl on the couch.

Cain pretended as if he had not been discussing anything of consequence, “Maryweather!”

“Where have you been!?” Maryweather shut her book, obviously annoyed. “I have had to send two warm meals back to the kitchen, because they cooled off!”

“Unlike her,” Cain whispered to Riff, who chuckled softly.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?!”

“Nothing, nothing,” Cain grinned, trying to win over Maryweather’s sympathy with a look of appeasement.

“And you couldn’t even come down to dinner in something nice?” Maryweather glowered at Riff for a second, but decided it was all Cain’s fault. “Your shirt is way too big and you don’t even have pants on!!!”

Cain waved his hand, relaxed, through the air, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Are those…?” she paused apprehensively, and then dangerously, “Why are you wearing Riff’s clothes?”

“Because, Maryweather, you are what you eat.” Riff smiled a little, in spite of himself, and he caught a gleam in Cain’s eyes meant for him.

“I don’t…” Maryweather was mulling the thought over, but it was far above her grasp.

“Oh, of course not.” Cain laughed, looking at her, “You’re much too young to understand this sort of thing.”

She growled angrily, stood up, and kicked Cain in the shin before storming off up the stairs. Cain crouched down near his lower leg and hopped to the couch to keep his bearings. He held himself there with an arm, the other occupied in rubbing his bruised shin.

“M-Maryweather! I-I’m sorry!!!”

Riff smiled to himself and left the room to go make Cain dinner and something for which Cain could use to make amends to his incensed sister.