Note: A new little tidbit written for LJ's Hentai_contest, frottage prompt, 666 word limit. Toys with the two definitions of "frottage" you can find in the dictionary. Warning: YAOILICIOUS! First fanfic of 2012, I do believe!

Art Lesson

From his sprawled position on the small, high bed, Prince Soma's roseate pout roused his devoted servant Agni as the bee stirs the flower. His bored whine moved Agni as the full moon swells the tide. Backing out of the room with many apologies and a promise to return in but a moment, he dashed through the London townhome in search of some new diversion for his master.

Flushed and triumphant, he returned, holding aloft several sheets of stationery and some pieces of charcoal. Extending a hand, he beckoned the prince from his bed, entranced by the sight of his loose, shimmering garments that exposed slender hipbones, smooth flesh, and bejeweled navel. He forced his eyes away and to the floor, where he neatly pulled away the thick rug to expose the polished hardwood.

"I have learned of an artistic technique in which a rubbing is taken of a surface to create a design. It is called 'frottage,' my prince. The floors of this house will provide a lovely lesson in natural variation, don't you think?" Agni's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as Prince Soma looked down at him, thick violet-brown hair slipping across his sultry eyes.

The pout returned. Long-fingered hands with lustrous manicured nails rested on his hips as he spoke: "It does not sound lovely to me, Agni, but I will try it."

With Agni's assistance, the prince dropped to his knees, the tinkle of the little bells around his ankles making the servant dizzy. Together, they bent forward, Agni putting charcoal into Soma's hand and guiding it gently over the paper across the grain. A pattern emerged, delighting Soma. Agni snuck a glance at his smile, watched his tonguetip protrude as he knelt lower. "You are in my way," snapped the prince, and Agni quickly moved out of the way. Soon Soma was again discontented. He turned up his face with a frown as Agni knelt to his side. "No, no," he snapped, "come up behind me so you can watch."

Agni obeyed humbly and instantly, and the view took his breath away. Soma's slender hips were high, his buttocks pert and twitching as he rubbed the charcoal across the paper. The servant could not resist advancing the lesson as he brought his own hips—and achingly hard cock through his loose pajama—against Soma's backside and began to rub.

"Agni! What are you doing?" cried Soma, attempting to rise but being held in place by his servant's firm hands on his hips.

"Patience, my prince," cooed Agni as he humped against the soft cloth and firm behind. "I am merely showing you another form of this new artistic technique."

Soma chuckled softly and pressed back. "Then teach me well, my Agni."

Agni groaned and his cock jumped. "My prince is a work of art like no other," he murmured, and began his frottage in earnest.