PART II:

They dismounted as sunset tore at its end with a crimson and purple sky and the khalasar, Daenerys and the Free City of Pentos were little more than a distant memory.

Viserys was the first to dismount from his steed, kicking up a little cloud of dark orange of dust upon landing on the slightly sandy ground. He waited quietly for his husband to do the same, and when he heard him landing his feet on the floor, he turned on his heels to face him. Khal Drogo stared at him with the same desire he had done hours ago, but he didn't move a muscle for what seemed like minutes, so an exasperated Viserys had to make the first move.

He began to open the silver brooches that held the purple cape to his shoulders, under the Khal's hungry gaze.

"My hand for an army, that was the deal, no?", he said, finally taking off his cape and being only covered by the thin, almost translucid tunic, "And for the heads of the Usurper and his sons of bitch impaled in the stakes outside my castle". 

He walked up to stand in front of him, defiant. "So take what is yours and do your part".

But the Dothraki did not move. After a while, Viserys whispered angrily: "Isn't the Khal going to taste what he has paid for?"

"No", the other man said in the Common Speech, surprising the prince.

"No? Why not?", Viserys spat in anger, "I'm not what you expected and now your dick doesn't go up? 

Another pause. Then, "No". 

Viserys felt the rage burning in his chest like dragonfire. He was going to insult him, but to his surprise, the Khal's big and calloused hand touch his skin between the eyebrows, right where he was frowning.

"No", he said softly. He understood what his husband meant, and felt that the exhaustion he had accumulated throughout the day finally was finally sinking in on him. He was nervous, contrite, confused...  

"I don't know what I have to do", he said, breathless, "I need help, your help".

Khal Drogo remained silent, but he seemed to comprehend that, because acted in response. His long, thick fingers freed the prince's hair from the oppressive grip that the black dragonbone pin took, and the light locks spilled softly over his shaking shoulders like a pale veil of silver silk. He passed his fingers between them, as if combing them with care, and in the process, his rough thumb brushed Visery's neck with an ephemeral caress. The prince held his breath, but he forced himself to show a calm that he wasn't feeling at all. He chided himself for his nervousness. 'Caressing you isn't going to be the only thing he's going to do to you today', he reminded himself.

The Khal caressed his neck again, now on purpose, and felt how all his hair stood on end as a strange sensation settled in him. To his astonishment, Viserys was feeling everything but the fear or the shame he had thought. His body allowed itself to be touch with a meekness most seen in an obedient servant... A pleased, obedient servant.

After a few more superficial caresses, Drogo began to undress him. He removed the torque from his neck, the solid silver bracelets whose weight made Viserys think of heavy prisoner's chains. It was he who took off his robe, avoiding the gaze of those black eyes as deep and burning as the Seven Hells.

As Viserys laid the delicate garment carelessly on the reddish sandy ground and stood up, he felt a fleeting desire to shield his nakedness from this man who was looking at him with a look of hunger and thirst for what had been revealed when he removed the silks. 'I should not be ashamed', he thought. He was a man and Drogo another man, though the Khal's body was so powerful that he thought his seemed bland, pathetic in comparison. His was a slender and pale body, with moles dotting his chest and his back, and even though he wouldn't describe himself as fragile-looking, it could still be seen the signs of the hunger and all the other miseries that he suffered years ago.

"No", the Khal said, raising his chin with his hand. His huge hand covered his chest and he gave him a short tug on the nipple. Viserys couldn't tell if it was due to the time he hadn't bedded Doreah or, more embarrassing for him, that brief stimulus, but he found that both of his nipples had hardened and his member was getting hard too.

Then it was the Khal's turn to undress. He took off his dyed leather vest, whose lapels were embroidered with two black horses in a rampant position, then the belt of bronze medallions and finally, the long horsehair breeches that they held. Viserys watched him undress in silence, expectant and trembling like a shy maiden during her bedding ceremony. Even if he had tried, he could not have brought the sight of that hairy, muscular torso, and later, of the long, thick member that he knew would soon be against him and in him. 

Khal Drogo tossed his vest to the ground and then Viserys. The prince laid down, so tense that he could swore his limbs had hardened like the steel of a Valyrian greatsword, even more after the savage man kissed him on the lips. It wasn't the first time Viserys did that, because he had had relations with Doreah, the young lysene girl that magister Illyrio had brought to his mansion some time ago to serve his sister, Daenerys. He knew how to kiss, he knew how to please, but as Khal Drogo's mouth hovered over his, the expertise he would have expected left him to let a docility take over in his place, and with a low moan he led the man do whatever he wanted.

The large hands explore his body as if he was trying to map it, the lips tracing paths over his skin, suddenly sensitive to his attentions. The Khal bit into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, across his chest and in his thighs, making Viserys moan with pleasure, as if he knew that the reddish marks that would soon appear on that pale skin were going to testify that the prince had a lord and master, and it was him.

He spread his legs and Drogo made a space between them. With one hand he took the member, easing the prince's arousal and perpetuating it at the same time with short, quick movements, while the second hand travelled to the place he was meant to own. Viserys shuddered while, from a pocket of the vest below him, the Khal produced a small vial where a transparent liquid shone, which he spilled on his fingers. The Khal pushed one of them against the opening and every muscle in the prince tensed.

"No", he warned, and kissing Viserys' on the neck, he pushed his finger inside him, more softly, more slowly, until it reached a point that made him gasp and blush. Another finger was added, an a third more carefully, and finally, they abandoned his opening, only to be replace by Drogo's hard dick.

Viserys shrieked and his body curved at an impossible angle when he suffered the harsh intrusion. It was too hard for his body, too pulsing, too strange... And found himself wanting more of it. But, to his surprise, the Khal stopped and began to leave his body, letting every inch that was released from his intrusion feeling empty, incomplete.

"No?", he asked, looking at him with eyes full of contention.

Viserys came closer to him and covered his aching opening with the other man cock.

"Yes... please", he said breathless.

Sorry for the bad smut, thank you for reading. Next chapter occurs hours later and follows Drogo's perspective.

Fun fact: Khal Drogo only new the world "no" in the Common Speech, that's why in the book (and here) he just says "no".