My Life with Prince Harry

By Kyle Frank

Published on Feb 27, 2013

Gay

My Life with Prince Harry: Chapter 9 Kyle Frank brees_fan_kylr@rocketmail.com

Please note I don't know Prince Harry personally or know his true sexual orientation. Furthermore, this story is 100% complete fiction and in no way to insinuate his sexuality or anything of the like. Lastly, this story contains male to male sex, so if this offends you, you are too young to be reading this, or, you are not into these kinds of things please leave now. Thank you and please enjoy this tale.

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We had locked lips for a long while as we slowly worked our way to the bedroom. But just seconds from backing him on to the bed where I would have been all too willing to undress him, Harry turned on me.

"Don't you think you should have told me about the fucking camera?" he snapped.

"It's my fault, Harry. I thought that once I had cleaned it and turned it over to the Police that would be the end of it. I am actually very surprised that the camera would be brought up. You should also know that the guy who asked you the question is not the guy who owns the camera."

"How do you know that?" asked Harry as he undid his bow tie and letting himself down to sit on the end of the bed.

"Because, the chap who owned the camera was at the little scrum you had following your visit to your grandfather this morning. He even had the nerve to ask me if I was going to take his camera again."

"So you did actually turn the camera over to the Police?" "Yes! I asked your PPO and checked with the Private Secretary as to the proper course of action. Later I called Deputy Chief Inspector William Ramsay, Assistant Head of the Personal Protection Branch. He advised me to take the camera down to the Police station which I did. I wrote out a report and turned the camera over to the Police to return."

"So what's this guy on about some risqué pictures?"

"Well, that's the part I don't get. To me, and it just might be only me, I got the distinct impression from looking at the pictures that someone was stalking you. As for the risqué pictures? Well, they're are pictures, Harry, but there are also videos."

"Videos? What bloody videos?" Harry asked with his voice raising an octave or two.

"There are three videos of you and another gentleman in very compromising positions. If those got out to the press, well let's just say your Granny would probably dispatch you to the Tower for at least 300, perhaps only two hundred years if she's in a good mood."

"And you turned all this over to the Police?", asked the young Prince nervously.

"No! I did not turn all of it over to the police. I just turned the camera over to the Police."

"So where are these pictures and videos then?"

"Well, let's get something out of the way first, Harry. I really didn't want you to see the pictures or the videos. I downloaded them to my portable computer and made a copy that I put on a flash drive. I put the flash drive in my safety deposit box at Coutts Bank. I did not think that anyone would be stupid enough to ask for them since that would bring the possibility of a law suit down around their ears."

"But you did say you didn't turn anything, none of the pictures or the videos, over to the Police?"

"No. I have a whole set here on the portable and one on the flash drive."

"Can I see them?"

"Why don't we look at them in the morning when we're rested", Keaton said reaching out to his Prince to grab hold so he could pull him up off of the bed. "After all, you did say I might get some nooky tonight."

"Maybe you have been a bad woof and deserve to be punished", quipped Harry.

"No!" replied Keaton. "I've been a good woof. I was watching over my Master's interests."

"Hmmmmmmm", muttered Harry as Keaton held him by the hands "Maybe I have another interest that you can look after Mr. big bad woof."

"Isa promise, Masser", said Keaton trying to sound like a black southern slave of long ago.

"Let's see now", said Harry as he turned Keaton around and pushed him so that he sent him sprawling on his back on the bed. "Maybe I can find one of my polo crops around here somewhere."

"Sorry, Masser. Me done took those nasty whips and got rid of `em lest you leave painful welts on my back or backside."

"Right!", chucked Harry. I think I'll sell you in the morning then",

"Maybe if I look after Massers interests tonight, you'all won't sell me in the morning", replied Keaton as he reached up and slowly undid the buttons of Harry's shirt and removed it.

"I'll definitely review the situation in the morning", laughed Harry as he lifted his legs one at a time so Keaton could take off his trousers.

Keaton pulled Harry down to him and started off looking after his masters interests by kissing and nibbling Harry's left ear, then moved over his forehead, then down the bridge of his nose to his lips. He spent a lot of time on the lips. Then he moved on to that petulant chin and the soft skin underneath. Then he spent a whole lot of time on the neck playing the ravishing vampire. Down he moved onto the chest. Here Keaton was in no great hurry. He loved playing with Harry's chest particularly when Harry let his hair grow in. From slab of flesh on the right to slab of flesh on the left, Keaton moved back and forth worrying the nubbins. He certainly got Harry's motor going when he slowly began moving down the center of his chest to his belly button.

"Yes, masser. Yes, masser. Ol' Keaton gonna get yous motor runnin real fine", giggled Keaton as he worked on driving Harry to empty his nuts.

When and at what time in the morning they finally fell into an exhausted asleep neither knew. But, the next morning, Keaton's eyes opened real wide the moment he heard someone bang his shin on the coffee table in the next room and swear, albeit rather quietly, in the process. Slowly, he reached under the mattress to pull out his gun. Without disturbing Harry, he got out of bed, still in the nude, and moved silently to the doorway leading into the sitting room.

Tristan heard the click and froze.

"What are you doing here so fucking early?" asked Keaton.

"Well, excuse me, Sir", snapped the gentleman's servant. "But half the bleeding morning has been and gone. Would you like your coffee now?"

"I told you about the "Sir" bit, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. My goodness, you've certainly made your point. But when someone is holding a Glock 17, nine millimeter, I'd just as soon call them Sir, Sir".

"Tristan, you're an ass."

"Maybe so, Keaton. But I'm a live one. I don't think anyone else has ever drawn a gun on me in the performance of my duties", said the man-servant as he stooped to pick some piece of clothing or other up off the floor."

"Yeah, well! Perhaps you'll warn the others that there's a new sheriff in town intent on looking after his charge so except for you, I really don't want anyone else creeping into our rooms."

"I'll make sure to pass the word", chuckled Tristan who was getting a generous eyeful of the gorgeous naked man standing before him. "Now, not that I personally mind really, but if you'd be kind enough to put something on, I'll pour your coffee."

Keaton returned to the bedroom and put the gun back under the mattress. Moving over to one of the chairs and without bothering to put on any underwear, he picked up and pulled on a pair of tan coloured cords he'd bought the last time he'd been to the GAP. Checking to see that his Prince was still purring under the duvet, he went into the kitchen area where he saw Tristan pouring out two cups of coffee.

"So you didn't answer my question", said Keaton matter-of-factly.

"Ahhhhh, yes. I must have been distracted", came the cheeky reply. "As a matter of fact, I am on duty today. So, on my way to Clarence House where His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall will be hosting a dinner party later today at which I will be in attendance, I thought I would check in on the scruffy side of the family to make sure everything was just tickety boo."

"We'll get the scruffy thing in a minute, So, tell me. What got you into Royal Service?"

"Well, that was really accidental", replied Tristan.

"How so?" asked Keaton as Tristan set his cup down in front of him.

"Black, two sugars", I believe said the man-servant as he doctored up his own cuppa.

"Yes, thank you", replied Keaton as he studied the former soldier.

"Well, Harry is the patron of a charity called `Walking with the Wounded' that has a goal of raising £ 2 million for the veterans. I was in hospital recovering from my own injuries when he came round for a visit. Everyone was talking about the trek to the North Pole and the fact that a Prince of the Blood was going to do everything with the team of four wounded soldiers including sleeping in a tent in below freezing weather and pulling a sled, known as a pulk, which weighs around 100kg and is packed with everything they will need on the trip, including 40kg (88lb) of food, clothing and personal kit, a share of the cooking equipment, fuel for their stoves, tents and communications equipment. Even me, a poor lad from the backside of Wales knew that Royal Princes don't go in for discomfort very much. But Harry is a man's man and a soldier. He's already served one tour of duty in Afghanistan and a rumour below the stairs is that he'll be off again just as soon as he finishes his Apache training."

"Is there a shorter route to the answer?" Keaton asked just as he was taking a sip of his delicious coffee. "What's in this coffee anyway?"

"Cinnamon", Sir. "Well, anyway, he sat on the end of my bed and just chatted me up like any of my mates would. I asked him about his roughing it and he laughed and said something to the effect that his grandma told him he had to leave all his servants at home. I still to this day don't know why I said it but I said something to the effect that if I was in better shape I'd have volunteered to tag along as his Batman. Well, one thing led to another and one day after I'd been discharged and I was home in Wales recuperating, I got this telephone call from the Private Secretary to the Prince of Wales. He asked me if I'd come up to London, arranged for my ticket and, as they say, the rest is history."

"Does it ever get to you? I mean picking up after him and doing everything but wiping his butt", asked Keaton sipping his coffee.

"Not really. He's very easy to work for. A bit spirited mind you. Loves a nip or two. But he is very considerate unlike one of his uncles, for example, who promptly tells his butler to `fuck off' every morning when he goes in to wake him. Harry's never swore at me. If I grumble about something that he could just as easily done himself, he'll apologize and the next time he will do it himself."

"So what's the long term for you?"

"Well unlike you, I don't have to carry a gun or anything like that. As the Duke, his brother, gets his own household established, it remains to be seen whether I get permanently assigned to Harry or continue to work for both brothers."

"So, you don't work for Catherine?"

"Oh no", said Tristan somewhat dismissively. "I do help out when the Duke and Duchess are together but, she does have her own Ladies to look after her. A man my age getting caught in the presence of the Duchess alone would only lead to rumours and, after the tabloids got on to Harry in Vegas and on to the poor Duchess during their trip to France, well it would be scandal city. I can just read the headlines now, `Royal servant bonking Duchess'. No, I just look after the brothers but I expect to be spending more time looking after Harry, particularly if he does go back to Afghanistan."

"You mean you'd go with him?"

"Fucking right, he's going with me", came the voice of the shaggy ginger head as he slumped into the remaining kitchen chair. "Nobody makes coffee like he does."

As if on cue, Tristan got up from the table to fix Harry his morning coffee. "If, and there's no guarantee, the Government lets me go back after I've done my Apache training, Tristan has already volunteered to come along as my Batman. It's all been approved. He will be re-instated in the Welsh Guards with no loss of seniority. And he's even agreed, although he didn't know who it was going to be, that there's to be the added baggage of looking after your sorry butt."

"Speaking of which, Sir. If Keaton didn't know already, his new uniforms are all over at Clarence House. And, the Private Secretary told me to inform you that he will be sent off to familiarize himself with the SAS training shortly", said Tristan as he placed Harry's cuppa on the table in front of him..

"Did he say when shortly was", asked Harry looking at his man-servant.

"No, Sir. He just said, shortly", came the reply as Tristan got up and moved on to tidy up the bedroom.

"Hear that Keaton. Already the establishment wants a piece of your sorry ass. It's into the trenches for you. And, sorry, no nooky while you is in da trenches, Mr. big bad woof,' laughed Harry as he took his cup in hand and followed Tristan into the bedroom.

What Keaton did not see from his seat in the kitchen was the quick kiss Harry planted on the end of Tristan's nose.

"I'm going to take my shower now, Tristan. I'm off to nip in on Granddad and then take a run down to the Ham Polo Club to see a potential replacement for my horse that died last year. And this evening, I believe that Keaton has arranged for dinner at Bellamy's."

"Yes, Sir. If I may not be too bold, Sir, do you think you and I can have a private conversation at your convenience."

"I will be looking forward to the first opportunity, Tristan, I promise."

"While you are taking your shower and after I've tidied up a bit, I will lay out your clothes. Will you need your polo gear? I believe one is already packed."

"I don't think so, Tristan. I didn't plan this out but I'm responding to a call from the Polo Manager, Bill Healy. I really hadn't thought of playing this afternoon."

"Very good, Sir"

"Do you need me to accompany you, my Prince, so that all the proper parts of your precious anatomy are properly scrubbed", asked Keaton as he strode into the bedroom.

"I promised to make a decision this morning about your future. And since we are nearly through the morning I don't want to bring on a migraine. So, Mr. big bad woof, you get to stay another day and who knows what tomorrow may bring? As for the shower, I think I can handle it but thank you for offering."

Just as he was about to return to the kitchen for another delicious cup of coffee, he turned to Harry and said, "Do you know that your man-servant Tristan here, called us the scruffy side of the family this morning?"

"Well I've been called a lot worse by a lot more", replied the Prince chuckling. Then tenderly looking over at Tristan he said, "Tristan, I hear latrine duty is absolutely disgusting in Afghanistan."

"But, don't worry Tristan", said Harry stripping down in front of both men, "If I send you to latrine duty because of an off coloured remark, I'll send my big bad woof with you because he squealed."

"Squealed? I've never been called a squealer in my life", barked Keaton

"Ah Tristan. I know the big bad woof doesn't like history lessons, but one day soon please do sit him down and tell him the story of Paul Burrell who, as far as I know, still lives a somewhat lonely existence above his flower shop in Farndon."

It will be my pleasure to aid in his education, Sir", said Tristan with a slight smile creeping across his face. When Harry stepped into the shower, Tristan in a show of childish playfulness stuck his tongue out at the big American.

"Anymore coffee, Tristan?"

"If not, I can easily do up a pot. Harry's not a big breakfast eater so perhaps he'll have another cup after his shower."

Just as Tristan got to the kitchen counter to begin preparing a fresh pot of coffee, the telephone rang and Tristan walked over to answer it. Keaton listened to the one sided conversation and marvelled at how professional and yet, how calm, Tristan was as he spoke to whoever it was on the phone.

"Good morning Ma'am."

"Yes, Ma'am."

" Certainly Ma'am."

"She's doing fine. My sister is with her and the doctors suggest that over time she'll make a full recovery. Thank you for asking Ma'am."

"Yes, I will tell him."

"Good by, Ma'am", said Tristan as he put the phone down in its cradle.

" Well, that was all very formal. So who was on the phone", asked Keaton.

"The Duchess of Cambridge, Sir".

"And?" asked Keaton getting a little annoyed that Tristan was still using the "Sir" and not offering up any information.

"Oh yes, Sir", replied Tristan with a small almost inaudible chuckle. "The Duchess asks if you would be so kind as to take a moment and pop round to see her, Sir." Came the reply as Tristan went back to finish preparing the new pot of coffee.

"And when would she like me to do this?"

"In an hour or so, she said", replied Tristan.

"Sounds like you're in trouble again, Keaton", said Harry as he pulled on a nice light blue dress shirt.

"What did I do?" asked Keaton. I only met the lady for the first time last night."

"Maybe she did not like the fact that you did not let her do a walk about last night", responded Harry.

Turning on Tristan who was standing by the kitchen counter waiting for the coffee machine to do it's trick, " Did she say why, Tristan?"

"No, Sir. I cannot say that she did. She just asked if you would drop by in an hour or so."

"Run along now, Mr. Woof and get your shower. One must not keep my dear sister-in-law waiting and we both know how long it takes you to have a shower", teased the Prince.

As he started for the bedroom Keaton turned his head back to look at Harry. "Ever hear of the three minute shower, your Royal Highness? asked Keaton with a slight tone of sarcasm.

Harry not to be out done, looked directly at Keaton and replied, "As a matter of fact, I've taken many during my military training, Lieutenant Colton."

Keaton had the smarts not to reply as he passed through the bedroom door on his way to his quick shower.

As Tristan busied himself preparing another cup of coffee for Harry, Harry watched him for a moment and then, just as if a light bulb had gone off in his attic, he remembered.

"I'm sorry, Tristan. I absolutely forgot," said the Prince stepping up to Tristan and wrapping his arm around Tristan's shoulder. "Did someone not tell me that your mum has just suffered a stroke?"

"Yes, Sir. A few days ago."

"How is she doing?"

"I spoke with my sister last evening. She went home to be with her. According to what the doctors told her, my mother should make a full recovery if she does what she is told and gets a lot of exercise."

"Are you going to be taking some time, Tristan?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll take a little time after she is discharged from hospital. That way I can spell my sister for a few days."

"Will you drive or take public transportation?"

"I don't own a car, so I'll be taking public transportation. I've done it many times before and if everything is running on time it only takes about six hours."

"What's the name of the hospital there?, asked Harry trying to appear as non-interested as possible.

"She's in the Bronglais General Hospital. My sister says she will be there for a few more days so I will book off some time next week, Sir".

"Tristan, I know I am also speaking for my brother here, so I want you to take all the time you need. I'm a big boy and I have that ugly American to look after me', he said with a slight giggle.

"I heard that", came the low growl from the bedroom where Keaton was getting himself dressed."

"Didn't your granny just make him a Canadian, Sir?"

"Right. So I wonder, if he's a Canadian now, will he be like all the other Canadian's I've met, polite and courteous, I wonder?" said the Prince as both he and Tristan broke out laughing.

"Fat chance of that happening", snapped Keaton as he waltzed back into the kitchen. "So! What's the plan?"

"Well you get along to attend my sister-in-law while Tristan and I wait for you by going for a walk around the gardens."

"Right. I should be back soon. I can't see where she would have a lot to say to me."

Keaton walked over to Harry and gave him a slight peck on the cheek. He saw the cup of coffee Tristan had poured for him but decided against it. Just as he turned the doorknob to exit, Harry called after him.

"Keaton, before you go. Could you power up your laptop please so I can have a look at those pictures that chap was on about last night. I promise not to rummage around your computer."

Keaton instinctively knew that this was not a request but an order and returned to the sitting room to start up his computer. While he had wanted to be with Harry when they went over them, he knew now that was not going to happen. Once his computer had powered up, Keaton entered his file protected password and as soon as the file opened, he left the Prince alone with his man servant.

When he arrived at the temporary residence of the Duke & Duchess of Cambridge and even before his knuckle reached the door to knock, the door opened and a footman was standing there waiting for him.

"Good morning, Sir", came the cheerful greeting.

"I have an appointment with the Duchess", remarked Keaton looking the footman up and down. He immediately came to the conclusion that by his bearing, this was another ex-serviceman.

"Yes, Sir. You are expected. Please follow me."

The footman closed the door behind Keaton who stepped aside for him and then then led the way down the hall. Arriving at a double door, the footman knocked ever so gently and opened the door upon hearing the word, "Enter".

Opening the door, the footman then announced Keaton and stood aside as Keaton went through the doorway. The departing footman noiselessly closed the door behind him. Keaton stopped just inside the door and bowed his head to the young lady sitting at a lovely laid out table in front of the large picture window.

"Good morning, Lieutenant. I am so glad you could spare me a moment of your time", Catherine, the Duchess of Cambridge, said as she rose and stretched out her hand to Keaton.

"It's my pleasure, Ma'am", replied Keaton taking her hand in his but applying no pressure whatsoever lest he cause her any discomfort.

"Do you prefer coffee or tea, Lieutenant?"

"Coffee, Ma'am. I haven't got used to tea yet."

"It will grow on you, over time", said the Duchess as she took the silver pot containing the coffee and poured. "I'll let you complete it".

Just as if it looked as though the Duchess was going to sit, she looked past Keaton for a moment and then smiled.

Walking around Keaton, she said, "I don't think you have met my husband?"

"No, ma'am, I haven't", said Keaton as he turned in the direction the Duchess had moved.

Keaton was a little taken aback. There in front of him, with the Duchess now inserting her arm in his stood the smiling Prince William, who, Keaton knew, had not been at Kensington Palace the night before.

The Duke and Duchess, looking somewhat amused at the look of surprise on Keatons's face, walked closer to where Keaton was standing.

Catherine was the first to speak using the formal titles during their introduction, "Lieutenant Keaton Colton, may I introduce you to my husband, His Royal Highness, Prince William, Duke of Cambridge."

William extended his hand and took the Princes offered hand in his, nodded his head, and said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Highness."

William responded by saying, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Lieutenant. I understand that you have been appointed my brother's new Aide de Camp."

"Yes, sir. You have heard correctly."

"I haven't heard all of the details of your coming into this post", said the Prince. "From your accent, I'd presume that you are an American, no?"

"Yes, sir, that would be correct. Or, I should say that it was correct until a few weeks ago."

"Please continue, Lieutenant."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Yes, of course." "First, Sir. I would prefer it if you called me, Keaton. I'm still not all that used to the formality."

"Then, Keaton, it is. Now, let us take our coffee", said the Prince as he moved to the table and took a seat. The Duchess stepped forward to pour for him. "You were going to say, Keaton", asked the Prince.

"Well, your brother and I had met at a party about a month ago. We chatted and struck up a kinship so to speak. After that night, your brother spoke to someone in authority and asked if it were possible to be brought on to his staff. It seems as if someone did the homework and once they had obtained the history and everyone was satisfied, I was invited to meet Her Majesty. It would seem that Her Majesty and her Ministers are very concerned with the difficulties your brother's had with the Press. It would also seem that with my military and professional background, the Queen's advisers had decided that I would be a good fit as his A de C. The Queen, upon the advice of her Ministers, spoke with the President of the United States and a few other persons, including the Prime Minister of Canada, to discuss her plan which resulted in me being made a de facto Canadian citizen and a member of the Canadian military."

"Well, I'm sure that decision has ruffled more than a few feathers," said William.

"Yes, Sir, that it has. But, in my short time in this position, it would appear I have met the expectations of those who have appointed me."

"Well." said the Prince taking a sip of his coffee, "that is good to hear, Keaton. "One thing you have to remember, Keaton, is that here in the United Kingdom, unlike the United States and the presidential protection, our personal protection officers, as the royal bodyguards are called, are not expected to protect their charge from him or herself, only from assignation and molestation. You, on the other hand, are being cast in the same role as members of the United States presidential protection, the secret service. It is your job to protect my brother from everything including any potential harmful decision he, himself, might try to make. You can order him not to do something and he knows he must bend to your authority. That is what he was told by my Grandmother and he agreed to it. Do you understand your role a little better now, Keaton?"

" Yes, Sir. I certainly do."

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" asked the Prince.

"No, Sir. I believe we have covered everything"

"I am so glad we have had this opportunity to chat, Keaton", said the Prince rising from his chair. "Since we are speaking plainly with each other, let me just leave you with this piece of advice. I care very deeply about my family and, most importantly, about my younger brother. I would strongly suggest you keep your promise to my grandmother and my brother to keep him out of trouble lest, as I am sure my grandfather informed you, a stay on Diego Garcia would by no means be a pleasant experience. Lastly, because you are a now a citizen of the Crown, there is nothing and I mean nothing, that your President will be able to do to save you if you screw up."

"Yes, Sir. I understand my responsibilities."

"If I could give you a word of caution, Keaton, it would be to keep your relationship with Harry close but not too close. If you let it get too close, you may very well lose focus, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir, I am beginning to think I do", replied Keaton.

"We will all be keeping an eye on you for many reasons, Keaton. But, rest assured, if you do your job well and steer clear of the politics, nothing will befall you."

"Thank you, Sir. It has really been a pleasure."

"Likewise Keaton. Well, Catherine and I have some business to attend to prior to an engagement this evening. I just wanted to take a moment to meet my brother's new A de C. I hope to get a chance to talk to you in more detail at a later date."

"Most certainly, Sir."

With that the Prince and Duchess each extended their hands and Keaton, with a slight nod of his head, took each of them and shook them before showing self out. Once in the hallway, he took a deep breath and relaxed. As the footman again appeared to escort him to the waiting car, he couldn't help but think to himself, 'Boy! These Royals sure like to mention if you end up on their bad side they're sure quick to send you off. Well, I will have to make sure to keep on the positive side.'

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 10


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