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"I still can't—nnh—believe this is actually going to work," Aether pants.
"Mmm." Albedo's fingers twist inside him, pushing, stretching. "Why did you agree to it, then?"
Aether pushes back, trying to guide his hand, but Albedo doesn't take the hint. "Worst case scenario we still, mmm, get you out of your lab and," his breath hitching, "have some fun outside."
The sun is pleasantly warm on Albedo's shoulders. And the rich light makes Aether's skin seem to glow as he stretches out on the blanket. "I appreciate your outlook," Albedo says. "How do you feel?"
"Good." Aether takes a slow breath, deliberately relaxing. "Ready."
"You're certain?" Albedo has four fingers in him, and can spread them somewhat without provoking any apparent discomfort, but still. "If our theories are correct, any specimens responding will be considerably larger than I am."
"Our theories, he says. All I did was bring you data. You're the one with ideas on what it means."
"You're taking ninety-five percent of the risks," Albedo answers. "That entitles you to credit for the research."
Aether smiles up at him, that soft and fond expression that in most people means they're exasperated but charmed. Aether seems to forego the exasperation exceptionally often. "Okay. I'm ready to research, then. Don't worry. My sword's right here—" he touches the hilt where it lies on the edge of the blanket, the same formerly cursed blade that Albedo asked him to investigate when they first met— "and if I go for it, you'll jump in too and we can take anything that turns out to be an actual threat."
"You're right. Discoveries don't come from being afraid to try new things." Albedo leans down to kiss Aether for luck, irrational as that is, and then slides his fingers free. "I'll be close by. You can do this." It's entirely possible he's saying that more for his own reassurance than for Aether's.
The observation platform they settled on is an abandoned lookout tower some dozen paces away from where Aether reclines on his blanket. Albedo climbs up into it, takes out his notebook, and finds he can't help making a few sketches of Aether now, before anything has really begun: calm and at ease in his nudity, his braid swaying and spilling over his shoulder as he moves. He's so endlessly fascinating.
Now, as Albedo watches, he's preparing himself for today's specimen collection. The attractant comes in two vials. Aether opens the smaller one first and applies it to his body: underarms, groin, the cleft of his ass, all the places where his body would naturally produce such a scent if he were the real thing and not a mimic. The second vial he smashes against a rock, releasing the airborne essence that he disperses with a touch of his anemo power. Now they have only to wait and see if the formula Albedo and Sucrose designed does the job.
Aether looks so content and confident as he waits, basking in the golden light, trailing a hand down to play with his cock. He looks up and gives Albedo a teasing smile, and Albedo's heart speeds up a little. There's just something so magnetic about him! It's hard to wait in the tower and just watch.
Ah, but there are their subjects arriving now: what looks to be a hilichurl patrol, three of the smaller, numerous hilichurls and one much larger mitachurl bearing a stone axe. They walk up to Aether rather than breaking into a run, and none of them appear to be readying their weapons. So far, so good. Aether lounges on the blanket watching them, apparently completely at ease. Nobody else could have played this role so well.
As expected, the smaller hilichurls hang back when they reach the blanket and only the mitachurl steps up to examine Aether closely. More evidence pointing to their social structure being something like wolves', where the strongest members of the group not only receive the choicest food and defend their weaker cousins but are the ones who have the option to breed.
The mitachurl leans down—so much larger than a human, likely over twice the mass of Wagner the blacksmith, much less Aether—and inhales deeply. Aether puts a hand on that furred chest and says something as the mitachurl studies him. Olah Albedo knows, but not much else, and he somehow didn't think to ask how much hilichurlian Aether knew before now.
Whatever Aether has said, it's what the mitachurl wants to hear. He lets his axe fall and undoes some fastening at his hip that makes his loincloth fall away, and as he does so, the others spread out to take up positions around the blanket, facing outward as though they mean to stand guard while their leader is occupied. Albedo can't immediately see the mitachurl's cock from this angle, and shifts slightly to the side, craning his neck—
Then Aether moves and he can see it, an enormous shaft stiffening as Aether strokes it with both hands. It looks almost too much to take. Part of him worries that they've misjudged, that this is going to go terribly, but he makes himself stay where he is. Aether should know if anyone does, and his body language is still comfortable and even flirty as he coaxes the mitachurl hard.
The mitachurl sits down crosslegged on the blanket and pulls Aether close with one huge hand. He nuzzles briefly at Aether's own hard cock with that mask he still hasn't removed, and rumbles something that makes Aether laugh. Aether spreads his legs wide, to either side of the mitachurl's thighs, and the mitachurl steadies him as he sinks down. Again Albedo wishes he could see everything, the way they fit together, the way Aether's tiny tight hole stretches to accommodate a cock that seems too much for it. And he is accommodating it, thighs trembling as he lowers himself into the mitachurl's lap. The mitachurl's big hands palm his ass and Aether tips his head back, mouth open as if in a soundless moan, hands flitting over his abdomen where a clear bulge has formed.
Where is his notebook? Albedo's mouth is dry and his hands are trembling. He needs to be sketching as much of this as he can. He'll want to remember every second of it, as many details as possible.
Albedo's hand flies across the page, one gesture sketch after another interspersed with isolated details that capture his imagination, as the mitachurl rocks Aether in his lap, lifting him up and pulling him down. A few of the noises they make are loud enough to carry, moans and growls, and Albedo longs for some way to commit those to paper as well.
After a few minutes of this coupling, the mitachurl says something that makes Aether grin in response and nod. The mitachurl lifts Aether off his massive cock, so big it's hard to believe it could fit, and turns him to tip him forward onto his hands and knees. Aether spreads his knees wider, back arched, and Albedo's never going to see him in that position again without thinking of this moment.
The mitachurl sits on his heels between Aether's legs, and he's big enough for that position to already lift him up enough to push his cock back into Aether's ass. It's unbelievable, watching that thick shaft disappear into Aether's body. Albedo's own erection feels so urgent that he finds himself reaching down, rubbing it through his clothes to ease the tension. His sketches are growing shakier, less detailed, as he struggles to tear his eyes away from the scene.
Now that they've changed positions the mitachurl is thrusting, his hips slapping against Aether's ass and the force of the movement rocking Aether forward. It must feel so overwhelming. Aether's cheeks are pink and his mouth is open, panting as the mitachurl's thrusts fill him. He's so beautiful. This is going so well.
The mitachurl reaches for Aether's braid and yanks him back, pulling him up off his hands with a growl. At first Aether's hands go to his belly but then he reaches back and holds onto the mitachurl's hips instead, leaving a clear line of sight: his own cock ruddy and hard, bouncing with each rough stroke, his back arched in the most beautiful curve, his abdomen distended by the shifting pressure of the cock inside him. His body is clearly under strain, the shadows of tense muscle visible along his limbs, and yet he's given no sign of being in distress—
No, quite the opposite, as the familiar tremors of climax overtake him and his cock jumps, untouched, spurting forcefully as he grinds himself back against the mitachurl's hips. There's no way Albedo can properly capture this moment in a sketch but he's trying his best, giving himself some visual notes to fix it in his memory.
The mitachurl takes a little longer, holding tight and pistoning into Aether's body, before he throws back his head with a howl almost like he's in combat. Aether cries out too, like he's surprised by something—have they miscalculated? Is there something they should have accounted for in hilichurl anatomy, something incompatible with Aether's body?
No, Aether is smiling as he leans back, his head thumping against the mitachurl's broad chest. And... the mitachurl is petting him, stroking his hair with careful gentleness. Albedo scribbles down a few quick notes about that display of fondness and then watches as the mitachurl—still being ever so careful—disengages from Aether to collect his possessions. He puts his loincloth back on, hefts his axe over his shoulder, and calls out something to his companions, who hop up from their guard positions and follow him as he walks away.
As soon as the hilichurl group is far enough away not to be alarmed by his presence, Albedo leaps down from the lookout tower and sprints over to Aether on the blanket. "That was incredible," he says as he drops to his knees at Aether's side. "A better encounter than we possibly could have hoped for. You were a natural. How do you feel?"
Aether laughs, that familiar soft giggle as though orgasm has made him giddy. "Extremely well fucked," he says, picking himself up enough to kiss Albedo quickly before he winces. "Ah. Better collect that sample, I think."
"Of course." Albedo reaches for one of the sample jars at his belt as Aether positions himself on his hands and knees. Albedo spreads his ass cheeks carefully and says, admiringly, "Oh."
"Make a good discovery back there?" Aether asks. His asshole is flushed and gaping after that stretch, allowing the mitachurl's come to begin dripping back out.
"I am extremely fond of you," Albedo says as he places the mouth of the sample jar against Aether's rim to gather fluid. It was a copious release, suited to the size and ferocity of its donor, and he's going to have plenty of material for analysis.
"I hope that's not the discovery you just made," Aether says.
Albedo laughs, shaking his head. "No, I was certain of that before we came out here. Sometimes it bears repeating, though." He massages the soft tissue of Aether's rim, encouraging more fluid to spill forth. Even when he has a full jar there's still plenty left to simply make a mess, slicking Aether's hole and dripping down over his balls. It's a beautiful sight. Albedo's pulse pounds in his cock. "I want you," he says.
"Mmm." Aether pushes back into his touch. "You want me now, or you want to double your sample size first?"
Albedo looks up abruptly and sees what Aether's pointing at: another hilichurl patrol, bearing different markings from the first, at the edge of the field and slowly heading in their direction. "You'd be all right? You're not..." He pets that tender, open hole, runs his fingers around the flushed rim. "You're not at your limit?"
Aether shivers. "I can take another one," he says. He looks back over his shoulder, eyes sparkling. "And I bet after you watch a second round, you'll come so hard when you get a turn with me."
That isn't a good reason to continue this research at all. On the other hand, having twice the samples to analyze and twice the data to review is, and the two objectives overlap neatly. The hilichurl patrol is almost close enough to notice the source of the scent they're following. Albedo nods. "It's a plan. I'll be watching if you need me."
"Have fun," Aether says with a grin that says he certainly will.
Albedo turns and dashes for the lookout tower so he won't miss a second of it when Aether's second encounter starts. He doesn't know how he managed to stumble across someone so fearless and fascinating. But he does know he never wants to look away.