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It’s the theft of Wriothesley’s shirt for the third time in a week that forces Neuvillette to admit it to himself. Another heat is coming.
There have been other signs. He’s better at spotting them these days, with a few cycles under his belt. The itching under his skin and the physical heat for one. He’s been leaving windows open all week for the cool air, and he’s been doting on the Melusines more than usual. Muirne has complained – lightheartedly - about his overbearing presence following her patrols like a shadow.
Yesterday he sent Furina a care package of sweet treats and pantry staples. He’d been restless with worry all day. At the time it had seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do, and it had left him satisfied and proud of his ability to provide. Now he cringes with horror. She’ll think he doesn’t trust her to look after herself. He’s undone months of progress between them with-
Ah. There’s the emotional volatility.
And now, he’s absconded from Wriothesley’s bed, straight to work, with a third shirt. It had seemed perfectly reasonable this morning. Now it stares up at him judgementally from the drawer he has hastily bundled it into. It’s the same shirt Wriothesley wore yesterday, sweaty and crinkled. He fights the disturbing urge to pick it up and bury his face in the pungent, comforting scent of sweat and leather.
“Sedene,” Neuvillette calls without looking up from the shirt, “I think I will soon require one of my weeks.”
Sedene is tugging another window closed, glaring at it, because some of the Palais staff have allergies and Neuvillette is being inconsiderate. He cringes again. “So soon? Are you getting sicker, Monsieur Neuvillette?”
“I’m well Sedene,” he assures her as she totters over. “It’s simply… a private matter.”
Sedene gazes up at him, her brow pinched with sympathy. The poor, sweet thing. She would never want to talk to him again if she knew his depraved secret. “Well then, I’ll clear your calendar.” She waves her little hand. “Don’t worry Monsieur, leave it all to me.”
“Thank you Sedene.” Neuvillette reaches out and pats her head. He swallows heavily. “You are so good to me.”
“… Right,” Sedene says brightly, if a little confused. “You know Monsieur, if it’s a private matter, perhaps you should speak to His Grace? I mean, now that you two are...” She giggles.
She’s right, of course. Wriothesley is the one person he should talk to about this, because he’s arguably the one person that could help. He has spent every heat – bar one - at the bottom of the sea, somewhere between dragon and man, rutting against silken plants and futilely hoping that the water will cleanse him of the fire. The memories of that first, surprise heat carry him through it despite his better judgement, or the sickening feeling it leaves in his stomach when his sanity returns. Finally having a partner again would be…
Awful.
Neuvillette knows as soon as he enters The Fortress of Meropide that he will be spending his next heat here. It’s the calmest he’s felt all week. The pressure of the surrounding sea, the cool damp that clings to every surface, and the overwhelming scent of Wriothesley all settle his frayed nerves. Not even time alone in the sea, surrounded by his element, soothes him so quickly.
The guards on duty avert their gaze and smirk to themselves. There will be talk. Four visits in one week can hardly be chalked up to paperwork. But what happens down here is the business of the underworld alone. Wriothesley controls what leaves and enters Meropide, from people to goods to information. He’ll flaunt Neuvillette to his own, but he won’t allow the surface to gawk.
This is his mate’s territory. It is dark, cold, quiet, and he is safe. These are the kind of animalistic thoughts that tell Neuvillette he has a matter of days to prepare for his torment.
Wriothesley lounges on his office sofa, reading over loose files. His coat and tie are slung haphazardly over the back of the seat. When Neuvillette enters the room he smiles and puts the paperwork aside immediately. He already has a tea set laid out, though Neuvillette told nobody he was coming. Qingxin scented tea for himself, and a cup of water. Even from across the room, his senses sharper at this point in his cycle, Neuvillette can smell ozone mixing with the Qingxin.
“Inazuman spring water?” Neuvillette asks, hurrying to join him on the sofa. Wriothesley flicks his hand over the cup. Sparks of cryo chill the water. Something inside of him clenches with satisfaction and yearns for more. Wriothesley is so thoughtful, so domestic, like a proper mate.
“You could tell that from all the way over there?” Neuvillette does not dignify that with a response. He sips at the water and sighs, even more tension melting from him. It’s the perfect temperature. Wriothesley watches. His eyes crinkle fondly, proudly at the edges. “Is it good? I thought you could use a pick me up after your rough week.”
“I have not had a ‘rough week’. You didn’t need to go to such trouble.”
Wriothesley shrugs. “Oh it’s no trouble. It’s about time I started keeping proper provisions… especially if you’re going to be sleeping over so much.”
Neuvillette pauses, the cup cradled in his hands. At first, Wriothesley watches him with amusement, but when Neuvillette remains carefully still, his brow pinches. “Hey, I don’t mind.” Wriothesley shuffles closer, putting an arm around him. “Matter of fact I like it… I like it a lot.” Is his smile full of filthy insinuations, or is Neuvillette’s brain just looking for them?
Wriothesley leans in to drop a simple kiss on his forehead. “Baby, it’s nice to not be the needy one for once. I’m just… concerned. You’ve been acting off for days, and Sigewinne says you’re taking one of your ‘vacations’ next week.”
“How does she know that already?” Neuvillette hears the uncharacteristic growl in his voice as he finally stirs.
Wriothesley looks him up and down, searching. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Even….”
Neuvillette sighs, gathering himself. “Even draconic matters.”
“Yeah.” Wriothesley is so attentive, fussing over him like this. He’s such a good mate, even though Neuvillette has not used that word for him yet.
He has not had to explain much to Wriothesley. He’s one of the most intelligent men Neuvillette has ever met. He’d already pieced much of the puzzle together long before Neuvillette recovered his full authority. All he’d been able to provide Wriothesley was confirmation of his suspicions. If anything, Wriothesley had seemed more surprised his romantic feelings were returned than he was to find out Neuvillette was a dragon.
No, Wriothesley has made this all so easy until now. Which is what makes this even harder.
Neuvillette slowly puts his cup down on the tea table. “There is something of that nature I would discuss with you.”
Wriothesley nods, placid. “Alright sweetness, lay it on me.”
“The pet names…” Neuvillette grouses, but he cannot complain. Not when every atom in his body is bracing to lose Wriothesley’s respect and affection. “… As you may have noticed, since the prophecy was resolved I have been taking regular breaks from the court. I spend them alone, beneath the sea.”
Wriothesley nods. “Makes sense. I mean, that is your natural habitat.” Wriothesley is making a harmless joke, but the animal comparison is a sensitive topic at this time. It makes Neuvillette clench one hand into a fist. “Why? To recharge your powers?”
“No. It is a… a hormone cycle. Quite beyond my control. Dealing with it is very frustrating.”
“Hormone cycle?” Wriothesley tilts his head and examines him. “Like a menstrual-”
“I- I suppose it could be called-”
“Actually, maybe in your case it’s more like a Vishap’s hormone cycles. Although theirs tend to be all about mati…” He trails off as he takes in Neuvillette’s blush, the way he shifts uncomfortably. Wriothesley’s eyes flick downwards and his lips part. “… Oh.”
“Indeed,” Neuvillette coughs out. “Ever since I regained my true authority, I have been dealing with this… Condition.”
Wriothesley is blushing too now. His eyes rove. Neuvillette wishes, now more than ever, he was better at reading human emotions. But all he can do is wait, awkwardly, for Wriothesley to kick him out in disgust.
When their eyes meet again, Wriothesley’s sparkle. “You mean you’re going to go into heat?”
Neuvillette tenses. All he can hear is The Knave. “I am not an animal.”
Wriothesley turns him, bringing them face to confusingly eager face. “Every time you’ve left for one of your ‘weeks’, you’ve been…”
“Enduring,” Neuvillette admits, too confused to do anything but go along with Wriothesley’s flow. That one word makes Wriothesley shiver.
“Alright,” Wriothesley says, more to himself. “Alright, alright, you’re going to tell me all about how you endured later tonight because that sounds really hot.”
“What?!” Neuvillette splutters.
“But right now I’d like some more information.”
“If you know about a vishap’s cycle, you know marginally less than I do. I have had to draw my own conclusions from experience and research,” Neuvillette folds his hands across his lap. Not for the first time, he desperately wishes there were more dragons in the world. “It is an overwhelming surge of instincts every few months. It compels me to nest, to protect what is mine, and mostly to… to… breed," he grits out.
Wriothesley licks his lips. His breath wavers. Neuvillette waits for him to compose his polite rejection of their entire relationship.
“You want me to breed you, sweetheart?”
Neuvillette will swear to his dying breath that he is not the one that pounces.
“Perhaps it is closer than I thought,” Neuvillette admits later, curled up against Wriothesley in his bed.
They went once in Wriothesley’s office, frotting on the sofa, and again in his bedroom when Neuvillette tried once more to warn Wriothesley off. For some reason, his warnings did not have the effect he was expecting. Quite the opposite in fact; there are dark scratches on his hips.
Wriothesley laughs, slinging an arm across Neuvillette’s bare stomach. “This is just a preview? Oh, sweetheart, I really hit the jackpot.” He presses a wet kiss to Neuvillette’s neck.
“If this were the real thing, you would have to use protection,” Neuvillette points out.
Wriothesley stills, sobering. His hand curls where it rests over Neuvillette’s stomach. “So I could actually…?”
“I presume my hormones are not making demands for the sake of it.” And really, all he can do is presume. He sighs, burying his face in Wriothesley’s ample chest. “I’m sorry. I wish I had more answers, but I’m still adjusting to this myself.”
Wriothesley combs a soothing hand through his hair. “It sounds like it’s been difficult.”
“Difficult does not begin to cover it,” Neuvillette groans, but he feels lighter just for being able to admit this, to finally talk about it with someone. “It’s unbearable Wriothesley. The heat, the cramping. You cannot know how embarrassing it is, how terrifying, to be controlled by urges like that. I forget myself. It’s shameful.”
“I think it sounds hot actually.” Neuvillette bites at his chest, and Wriothesley laughs. “Ow, ow, hey! Okay, it sounds stressful too. I know how much your self-restraint means to you.”
“And you do not mind this?” Neuvillette asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “You will… spend it with me.”
Wriothesley’s cock twitches against his thigh. “I want to. It’s sex – lots of it – with you.”
“It’s more than that.” But Wriothesley cannot understand, so Neuvillette doesn’t hold it against him. "It’s… overwhelming. I don’t want to breed when the heat hits, I need it. I will be demanding. Selfish. Messy. I will ask you for terrible things. Things I would never want-”
“Hey, I can’t go for round three just yet.” Wriothesley’s hand dances across his shoulder. “Neuvi, maybe it’s been so much harder because you’ve been spending it alone?”
He has to admit, merely being around Wriothesley calms his inner beast. That’s why he’s orbited him this week, why he can lay here and feel at ease despite the awkward conversation.
But he also remembers the one time he had a partner. The mania.
Wriothesley’s hand curves around the nape of his neck, a soothing behaviour he shouldn’t have the instinct for. “So you… If it's just an instinct, if you lose yourself, does it even matter if it’s me?” He asks, a heartbreaking hint of insecurity in his voice. “You don’t even want it, you just need-”
“It matters to me,” Neuvillette interrupts fiercely. “I can still make my choices. Why do you think I’ve hidden myself away each heat? You are the only person I would trust with this Wriothesley. The only person I want to share this with. My-” mate, and maybe that alone will change things. After all, he does not truly understand everything that label means, only the vague notion of its Importance.
But Neuvillette has never been cavalier and impulsive with his words. “My Wriothesley,” he says instead.
They lay in silence for a moment. Truly, Neuvillette can’t imagine another place where he would feel safe enough to talk so frankly. Wriothesley’s bed, surrounded by his arms and scent, feels like home. Like the embrace of the ocean, except he is not alone.
Finally, Wriothesley’s troubled frown eases. He tilts his head up for a gentle, reassuring kiss, then peppers more across his face. “Yeah, I’m your Wriothesley,” he whispers, crowding him with affection. “And you’re my Neuvillette, weird dragon shit included. So I’m going to take care of you this time. You just tell me what you need.”
It’s Neuvillette’s turn to kiss him. One clawed blue hand that he usually hides beneath gloves tenderly cups Wriothesley’s cheek. Vulnerability, for both of them. “Thank you,” he whispers when they part. “Truly, Wriothesley. It means the world that you would tolerate-”
“How many times am I going to have to convince you that a week of frantic sex with you is not my idea of a chore?”
Neuvillette huffs. “Yes, yes, alright. I will not speak of it in such terms.” Wriothesley relents, with a kiss to Neuvillette’s ear, and flops on the bed beside him. Neuvillette sighs. To business then. “Obviously you should not actually breed me.”
Wriothesley chokes.
“Right,” he agrees, when he has coughed air back into his red face, though he avoids Neuvillette’s gaze. “I mean, I love kids but. Our jobs.”
“Yes,” Neuvillette murmurs, too distracted by urges to notice Wriothesley’s obvious disappointment.
“And this… Us. It’s still pretty new. Kids. That’d be… stupid.” He laughs awkwardly. “So I need to stock up on condoms. Okay. What else you got for me?”
Neuvillette rarely considers his own comfort. It takes several moments of contemplation before he hazards a suggestion. “Usually I have to… Sovereigns, forgive my crassness, ‘come it out’.” Wriothesley licks his lips. Neuvillette steadily ignores him. “But since the purpose of these heats is to… breed, I assume that it would ease if I were to fulfil that goal.”
“But you said-”
“Perhaps we could trick my biology.” It is a guess, perhaps a delusional hope, but he clings to the idea. “If you just ejaculate enough times, even wearing a condom-”
“How are you making marathon sex sound clinical?” Wriothesley’s face twists with displeasure.
“And as for myself… I do not want to climax.”
“Huh?”
“I… Some orgasms will be unavoidable, but each one drives me a little more insane. I would like to simply do what must be done and avoid having you see me so…” He has not squirted for Wriothesley before. He hasn’t done that at all outside of his heats. Even the memory of it makes his slit ache and his face flush with embarrassment.
“You want me to edge you?” Wriothesley is fisting the bedsheets. “Okay. Okay, alright. Is… Is it worse when you come with your cocks? Because I might have something that can help with that.”
Neuvillette smiles at him, bright and hopeful. “Really?”
Wriothesley laughs fondly. “Yeah. I’ll get it ready. What else?"
“You will also need spare bedsheets.... Lots of spare bedsheets. I will be somewhat... wetter than usual.”
Wriothesley’s eye twitches. “Got it.”
“And restraints.” He had not planned to ask for this but the thought of Wriothesley’s handcuffs, of being held back in some way… it brings him comfort. If he cannot control himself then Wriothesley will restrain his body for him.
Wriothesley groans and buries his head in his hands. “Neuvi you can’t just say this shit.”
Neuvillette frowns. Has he scared Wriothesley already? “But you are the one who asked me to-”
“You can’t just say such sexy things and expect me to-” He catches himself. “Fuck okay. Okay, I’ll have to stay calm and keep things under control. I can do that. I’m doing that right now.” He sits up. There is a noticeable tent in the sheets, and his smile is strained. “Continue.”
The proof of Wriothesley’s own self-control soothes some deep, lingering worry in Neuvillette. Not that he needed the evidence. Wriothesley could rule like a king over his underworld, doing whatever he pleased. But he doesn't. He holds back each day, because just like Neuvillette he understands the weight of his power. They both have to moderate themselves to set the tone for the people they lead. Wriothesley is just better at pretending he isn't doing it.
Maybe Wriothesley will ground him. This time, perhaps, he’ll get through a heat with his dignity intact. He trusts Wriothesley, and he knows Wriothesley trusts him. The black bindings of his neck are scattered across the floor, scars bared for him.
Neuvillette cuddles into him and they talk, long into the morning.
It is both easier and harder for Wriothesley to take a week off than it is for Neuvillette. Theoretically, nobody can tell him no. Practically, Wriothesley can’t just let the Fortress fall apart. While he darts around Meropide offloading his work onto others, Neuvillette makes slow progress through his own. The pre-heat fog in his brain is harder to work through than usual. He manages two distracted days, and at the end of the second he’s so warm that he decides to take his bundle of necessities and sleep at Meropide.
Wriothesley’s bedroom is behind three heavy doors and ten locks. It’s one of the safest rooms in Meropide, connected to his office by a relatively secret passageway. Wriothesley does not care for luxury. The room has a bed, a desk, and a small kitchen he only uses to heat up meals from the coupon cafeteria. A benefit that perhaps only Neuvillette cares for is that all but one of the walls touch the water, instead of another room. Wriothesley has no ‘neighbours’. His room stands almost alone in the sea. If Neuvillette presses his ear to the wall, he can hear it.
From the bed, Wriothesley watches with undisguised fascination as Neuvillette does just that. He’s been unusually quiet since Neuvillette turned up in his office.
Neuvillette can’t suppress a soft but inhuman sound, echoing the echoes themselves. Comfort. Peace. His mind heavy with the sounds of the ocean, he pulls away from the wall and begins to pace the room again. Evaluating. There is no decoration. Just a few books spread over the desk. Neuvillette stacks them into a neat pile. Then he abruptly pivots to the kitchen and rinses a used teacup under the sink. He won’t need to eat during his heat, but he wants it all clean.
“Can I help?” Wriothesley ventures.
Neuvillette pauses. “I…” Flushing, he turns to face Wriothesley. “I apologise. I do not usually… Well. I suppose I have never had a permanent nest to prepare, so of course I do not usually do this.”
“Nest,” Wriothesley mouths quietly. When Neuvillette winces, Wriothesley holds up his hands. “Hey, it’s fine. You do whatever you need to. My… nest is your nest. I’m just offering a hand.”
Some part of Neuvillette purrs at the offer, and another part snarls. For a moment he is torn in two, squinting as his muddled brain tries to make a decision.
Wriothesley smiles sympathetically. He has never seen Neuvillette so lost. It must seem incompatible with the certain judgements of the Iudex. “You really are figuring this out as you go, huh?”
Neuvillette recovers himself with a deep breath. “You could put some water away for me. It’s in my bag.” Wriothesley eagerly jumps up and Neuvillette hesitantly resumes his cleaning. He’s already making a fool of himself. What must Wriothesley think of him?
Just when he thinks it can’t get anymore embarrassing, Wriothesley exclaims. “Are these my shirts?!”
Neuvillette awakens suffocating in fire and the thick scent of leather and tea.
At first, overheating in an unfamiliar room, he panics. But Wriothesley’s sleeping body guards him from the gaping expanse of the room, and it settles him immediately. Behind his head, used shirts (stale, filthy, perfect) line the wall, cocooning him in Wriothesley. It’s almost overwhelming, but there’s his own scent – the smoke of his heat, a hint of dewy Romaritime flowers – blending so perfectly with Wriothesley’s that he preens. The gentle lapping of the sea against the walls rings in his ears. It comforts him, calls to him. His stomach cramps in rhythm with it.
With his senses so alert, even Meropide’s darkness can’t hide anything from his eyes. But Neuvillette sees only Wriothesley, skin slick and glistening from the sheer heat Neuvillette is giving off. His mouth waters.
He hesitantly, helplessly leans in to taste with a now forked, too-long tongue, lapping away a droplet of sweat running down the curve of a warm chest. He groans at the taste: sweet hydro, an explosion of tea, and concentrated Wriothesley. Emotions run through him. Wriothesley’s anticipation, his concern, the arousal that has been simmering in him for two days.
His mate wants him.
Neuvillette laves over hot flesh like a cat. He’s still half-asleep, too hazy and confused to hold back instincts. Grateful now that it was too hot to wear anything to bed, that fabric itched his skin painfully, he slips a hand between his legs. His slit welcomes his fingers, already wet and aching. Wriothesley stirs, grunting in his sleep. Neuvillette’s long tongue snakes toward his armpit for a taste of-
Some part of Neuvillette’s decent, human brain thankfully kicks in. He jerks back and begins to clamber on top of Wriothesley instead. “Wriothesley,” he calls, softly, restraining the building urgency. Slick smears over Wriothesley’s thighs as Neuvillette settles on him, biting his lip. “Wriothesley,” he hisses, and he just can’t help grinding his hips back. Just a taste. Just to keep him calm.
Sovereigns, he hates what his heat turns him into. The taste of Wriothesley’s arousal has only made it worse.
Wriothesley wakes up slowly. Too slowly. Neuvillette groans, frustrated, as he lazily chases sensation. But then those beautiful eyes are blinking awake, and even confused and half-asleep, Wriothesley’s hands instinctively settle on Neuvillette’s hips and help guide his movements. “So hot,” he grumbles. “Wha…” He takes in the wild eyes, the mouth hanging open to reveal long fangs and a longer tongue, the shimmering aquamarine scales that dot Neuvillette’s cheeks, his arms, his sides, all the way down his legs.
Recognition. Wriothesley sits up and Neuvillette whimpers at the friction. “This is it?” He asks.
Neuvillette nods, biting at his lip. “I’m- I apologise for waking you.”
Wriothesley shuts him up with a kiss, pulling him into it and twisting them around. It’s sloppy. Neuvillette is practically drooling into his mouth, licking at Wriothesley’s gums like he can drink him down. Wriothesley kisses him into the pillows, kicking off the sheets to get blissfully cool air on their skins. “I’ve got you,” Wriothesley says, between wet kisses. “I’ve got you.”
Neuvillette’s hips shifts restlessly. “It’s already…” A cramping in his stomach cuts him off and he kisses Wriothesley again to distract himself. “I thought we could ease into it, but it’s so hot already, I need-” He cuts himself off, refusing to say something so desperate so soon, even though he’s so empty and he aches all over.
“I know what you need.” Wriothesley pulls away from him.
Neuvillette growls, digging his claws into Wriothesley’s shoulders because his mate is not allowed to leave him like this. Only to immediately let go, horrified at his own actions. But Wriothesley just laughs, shooting him a fond look as he yanks off his own boxers. “I’m only getting the supplies sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to Neuvillette’s forehead while he's distracted by Wriothesley's cock, suddenly bare in front of him and filling out obediently.
From under the bed he produces a small bag, and from that bag he produces two handcuffs. Neuvillette, still feeling Wriothesley’s all too mortal skin beneath his claws, nods frantically. He’s not going to remain in control much longer.
Wriothesley secures his wrists to the metal headboard, just as they’d agreed. Each cuff clinks as they close around blue, speckled wrists, and something clicks satisfyingly into place in Neuvillette’s mind too. Yes, yes this is exactly what he needs. Being subdued by his mate, the sheer audacity and power one needs to chain the hydro sovereign … that’s the confidence you need to breed the hydro sovereign. His thighs squeeze together as his cocks shift within him.
Wriothesley pauses, a hand cupping Neuvillette’s cheek. He smiles kindly, in a way that Neuvillette feels unworthy of right now. “All good?”
No. Not all good at all, because Wriothesley isn’t inside of him where Neuvillette needs him. Isn’t fucking him against the wall to come as deep as possible in him. Isn’t pushing him to the floor and rutting into him until he screams.
... But yes, the cuffs don’t hurt and Neuvillette wants them. So he nods.
Wriothesley’s eyes shine. His thumb rubs back and forth across the scales shimmering on Neuvillette’s cheek. “Sweetness, I am going to take such good care of you,” he promises, and while Neuvillette is focused on his eyes, on the soft love in them that couldn’t be further from the filthy visions running through his own mind, a finger sinks into his slit.
Neuvillette moans, head tilting back. Wriothesley brushes sweaty hair out of the way and kisses at his neck as that finger circles, thrusts, testing him. “Fuck, you really are wet,” Wriothesley murmurs into his skin, awed.
“S-sensitive,” Neuvillette gasps. Another finger sinks into him, both to the knuckle, and Neuvillette’s chest heaves. “It’s soooo… sensitive.”
“I know baby, I know,” Wriothesley soothes him. But then he worms a third finger in and Neuvillette – so wet that it’s barely a stretch - tries to push down onto it, only to realise he can’t. The cuffs hold him where he is.
Wriothesley chuckles, scraping his teeth down Neuvillette’s neck. “You need me down there?” Neuvillette whines and Wriothesley leaves the arch of his neck with one last, lingering bite.
He slides down Neuvillette’s body, pressing kisses as he goes, and settles between spread legs. There, Wriothesley’s eyes blow wide. He pulls, gently stretching Neuvillette’s slit so he can admire it. There’s a wet, embarrassing sound, covered by Neuvillette’s moan. He drips around Wriothesley’s fingers, pooling onto the bed.
“Look at you… I gotta-”
Neuvillette yelps when Wriothesley buries his head between his legs. His thick tongue laps at him ravenously, like a hungry dog, and those fingers in him begin to move again. Neuvillette’s back arches, his eyes squeezing shut as he cries out and humps Wriothesley’s eager face.
“Mmm,” Wriothesley moans, and the vibrations are evil. He pulls back for air but keeps thrusting his fingers in and out, a steady rhythm. “You taste even better than usual sweetheart.” He gathers some of the dripping liquid and pushes two wet fingers into Neuvillette’s gasping mouth. “Here. You love water tasting, right?”
Neuvillette shakes his head, disgusted by the crass joke, but he sucks on Wriothesley’s fingers obediently. He groans, nostrils flaring as the concentrated memory of his own arousal is fed back into him. His traitorous tongue twines around Wriothesley’s fingers, eagerly cleaning him.
“Shit.” Wriothesley is breathless. “You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you?”
Neuvillette turns his face away, trying to hide it in the pillows. “Sorry,” he groans weakly.
“Sorry?” Sucking, wet noises fills the room as Wriothesley moves his hand faster and Neuvillette's walls cling to him. “Sweetness, you're incredible.”
Neuvillette shivers under the praise. He lurches towards it and yet cringes away at the same time, too confused to argue. His cocks are descending. It's getting tight inside him, no room for Wriothesley's talented fingers. But they remain, bullying a space for themselves and brushing up against the sensitive tips in sharp, unfamiliar pleasure that burns. It's so wrong, so good, that Neuvillette is going to-
“Ngh!”
Wriothesley’s fingers retreat.
Neuvillette collapses, hips dropping onto the bed. With hazy, blinking eyes he fixes Wriothesley with a betrayed look. “Why…?”
Wriothesley smiles fondly. “You didn’t want to come, right sweetness?”
“I…” Neuvillette is both incredibly in love and incredibly annoyed. “How did you-”
Wriothesley shrugs, smirking. “Maybe I just know your body that well.”
Neuvillette frowns. “Too well.”
The laugh that barks out of Wriothesley is fond. “There’s my Neuvi.” He presses a kiss to Neuvillette’s cheek. “Now, let’s get your cocks out, shall we?”
It’s a slow process, getting his cocks to fully descend when he’s not allowed to come. Wriothesley eats him out sloppily, messily, moaning to himself like Neuvillette is sweet tea. His fingers crook to the perfect spots. But every time Neuvillette feels himself heading for a cliff, somehow, Wriothesley just… knows, and he stops.
“Wrio… Wriothesley,” Neuvillette whines when he’s been denied for a third time. “Please.”
“Please what?” Wriothesley breathes into his ear. Neuvillette’s slick rubs from Wriothesley’s chin onto his neck, and Wriothesley dips to lick it up greedily. “You changed your mind? You want to come?”
Yes. “No.” It’s too much. It always is. “Just… don't tease.”
“I’m not teasing,” Wriothesley says with an amused smile. “I’m helping.”
His damnable fingers push back into Neuvillette. His folds make a rude, sopping noise and Neuvillette slumps in the handcuffs, shaking his head. “Can’t… gonna…” He can’t come, but he needs his cocks to descend, but he’ll come before they can. It’s too confusing, his body pulled in too many directions. Wriothesley curves over him, face fitting against Neuvillette’s neck and smearing sticky, drying slick everywhere as his fingers tease the tip of his largest cock. Gentle rubbing while it bathes in wonderful, pulsing heat. Neuvillette’s eyelashes flutter.
“Come on sweetheart, you can do it. Just give me those cocks, yeah? Get yourself nice and empty so I can fuck you.”
“Nnnn… Ohhhhhhh!” Neuvillette throws his head back on a long, low moan as his cocks finally descend, coming free in a rush of slick that floods over Wriothesley’s hand. The relief is instant, both his cocks and his painfully empty slit drool.
“Good baby, well done,” Wriothesley praises in a gravelly voice, and it goes straight to Neuvillette’s dizzy head. He moans incoherently, as if he’s managed to come after all.
But then, because he’s a violent criminal, a scoundrel, a disgrace, Wriothesley removes his fingers, and his hand strokes over his cocks instead.
Neuvillette’s arm jerks in the handcuffs uselessly. “Wriothesley!”
“Don’t come,” Wriothesley says, deathly serious even as he smiles pleasantly.
Wriothesley shifts, takes one cock in each hand, and then jerks him off in hard, quick movements. Like he’s trying to make Neuvillette come. “Wriothesley!” He kicks out, breathing heavily, panicked. “Wriothesley no you promised, you- you prom-” Neuvillette’s head lolls to the side as Wriothesley thumbs over his twin heads. He grips the headboard so tightly he thinks it’s going to shatter and moans whorishly.
“You really don’t want to come?” Wriothesley asks.
“Yes… No? I…” Neuvillette shakes his stupid head, consumed by the pressure in his stomach. He needs it, but it will be so embarrassing, but he needs it, but- “Wriothesley please!” His breath seizes, his stomach tenses, he-
Wriothesley releases him.
Neuvillette snarls, furious and relieved. So mixed up he doesn’t know if he’s going to bite Wriothesley or thank him. While he’s still recovering, thrashing in his restraints, Wriothesley wipes his chin with his arm and grabs two more things from his bag. Rings, about the size of-
Neuvillette gawks as Wriothesley fits them one by one around his cocks and clicks them into place just like the handcuffs. “Now you can’t come with these guys,” Wriothesley says, stroking an appreciative, savouring hand over the smaller cock. “Like you wanted, right?” He asks sweetly, like he’s enjoying Neuvillette’s dilemma.
“… Thank you,” Neuvillette finally says, genuinely touched by the effort despite how badly he wants to rip the rings off already. He tries to relax, to settle against the pillows, despite feeling like a livewire. They have so much more still to do, and the rings on his cocks won’t stop him coming with his slit. He needs to get a hold of himself.
(Needs to get a hold of himself, needs to take the rings off and thrust into his own hand and come himself stupid.)
He shakes his head, shivering.
The eyes watching him soften. “Sorry, you still okay?” Neuvillette nods. He is, really. The heat is just difficult. “I got a bit carried away. You just… You’re so beautiful like this.”
It jolts Neuvillette out of his stupor, and he balks at the obvious lie. What’s beautiful about this depraved, humiliating display? But when he opens his eyes to reprimand the flattery, he finds only honest awe in Wriothesley’s eyes.
Slowly, smiling to himself, Wriothesley shakes his head. “I mean- you’re always beautiful. But it’s this… otherworldly kind of beauty.” He softly cards a hand through Neuvillette’s hair. “Sharp. Intimidating. Sometimes I look at you and you’re so beautiful, it doesn’t feel like I can ever really have you.”
You have me, Neuvillette wants to say, despite his thick, heavy tongue. You always have me.
Wriothesley is still raking his eyes over him, like his heat is something to be savoured and memorialised. “But like this, with your walls down, wanting, needing …. You’re more human.”
Neuvillette frowns. In the depths of his heat he’s closer to beast than man. A rutting animal.
“Like this, you can be mine,” Wriothesley says, almost too quietly for Neuvillette to hear over the blood pounding in his ears. Maybe that’s what he hopes will happen.
Instead, Neuvillette tilts his head, nuzzling against Wriothesley’s hand, and presses a kiss to his calloused palm. “Yours,” he manages. Everything he wanted to say and yet not nearly enough.
Wriothesley’s pulse jumps. Neuvillette can hear it, all his keen senses attuned to his mate, as he mouths over Wriothesley’s hand. Instinct and needy affection. He presses chaste kisses that grow wetter to Wriothesley’s palm, until he’s licking over his wrist, over rich, tender blood vessels.
“I… yeah. Yeah, sweetness.” He jerks Neuvillette’s head back toward him. Neuvillette goes as directed, pliant and eager to please. Wriothesley stares at him like he’s the only thing in the world. For a moment he looks wild and heat-drunk himself. It worries some distant, unimportant part of Neuvillette. “Mine,” he growls, then dives down. Neuvillette purrs as Wriothesley bites at his lips in a claiming, bruising kiss. It pleases his inner dragon to be so fiercely pursued.
Wriothesley releases him only to grab for the bag again and pull out a condom. His enormous, thick cock presses against Neuvillette’s. It's slightly longer than Neuvillette's own largest dick. He knows how far it reaches, how perfectly it splits him. He can feel it inside him even as he stares at it, laid out on his waist as if to tease him. He couldn’t focus on anything beyond his own body before, but now he’s noticed Wriothesley’s dick he can’t look away.
“You want this?” Wriothesley asks calmly, like his cock isn’t red and angry, like he isn’t visibly just as desperate.
Neuvillette licks his lips. “Yes,” he breathes out. Wriothesley inhales sharply. His cock leaves a wet trail when he lifts it away, rolling on the condom. Neuvillette whines pathetically, pained, as he watches it disappear. “Please.” Wriothesley lines up with his entrance. “Please Wriothesley. Need you in me.” Wriothesley sucks in a harsh breath and kisses him, another drooling, messy thing.
“You beg so nicely when you’re like this,” Wriothesly murmurs. “Makes me wanna tease you.”
Then he smiles tenderly, abruptly. “Don’t come,” he repeats, and thrusts home in a single, brutal stroke.
“...!!!!” Neuvillette’s eyes roll back and his mouth gapes around a wordless cry. His toes curl as he shakes. Wriothesley stretches his walls, so deep inside him he swears he's in his guts. A thick, claiming, conquest and the burn of finally being filled is perfect.
Wriothesley moans, strangled, as they lay there for a moment, catching their breath. Then he shakes with wheezy, good-natured laughter. “I said don’t come.”
But how could he not? How could he resist the brutal, swift pleasure of finally having his mate buried right where he should be? Neuvillette cannot say any of this though. He breathes harshly, head pounding, as he comes back to himself. His cocks throb angrily, unable to join in with the intense orgasm, and mercifully he has not… ejaculated, from anywhere else.
Wriothesley sighs into his chest. “Almost dragged me over too.” He thrusts his hips minutely, like he can’t help it. “You’re so fucking hot Neuvi, I can feel it even through the condom.”
Neuvillette whines again, displeased by the reminder. “Keep going,” he insists, writhing. “Need you.”
“Need me to make you come again? Like you’re not supposed to?” Wriothesley teases, his eyes dark with want. “Maybe I should punish you.” He closes his eyes, losing himself in a fantasy. “Teach you not to disobey me..."
The words do something indescribable to Neuvillette’s head, casting him back to a place of instinct. This is his mate. He’s subdued him under him. Neuvillette must obey. “Won’t. I won’t, not again, but you- I need you to-”
Wriothesley interrupts him by rocking his hips in a wide circle, forcing a moan out of him instead. “You need me to fuck you,” he finishes. “Yeah? Need me nice and deep inside your pussy?" It's testament to how far gone Neuvillette is already that he doesn't scold Wriothesley for using that filthy word.
“Yesssss!" He hisses mindlessly, hooking his legs around Wriothesley's hips to try and urge him on.
“Greedy thing,” Wriothesley coos. “I haven’t even come ye- NGH!” He shudders as Neuvillette, eager to please his mate, clenches around him. “Okay! Okay sweetness, I’ll give it to you” He begins to thrust in earnest. Punching jerks of his hips that leave them both panting.
It’s quick. It was always going to be. Wriothesley tries to hold on because Neuvillette is so needy, they both know one round won’t satisfy him. But he barrels towards the edge, and Neuvillette doesn’t help. “Come,” he pleads, a breathy little whine as he pushes up into each thrust. It’s too much, too good, but he won’t come. His body is focused on his mate, on pleasing his mate, on obeying him if that’s what it takes to get filled with cum. “Come. Please. Need it.”
“Yeah?” Wriothesley fucks him faster. “You need me?” Neuvillette whines, nodding furiously. “Need my cum in your pussy? Need me to breed you?”
It’s just talk but for a moment the fantasy is real, and Neuvillette is starving. His legs tighten around Wriothesley’s waist, pulling him flush to him. His slit pulses, tensing and relaxing in a brutal rhythm. He doesn’t even think about what he’s doing. It’s all instinct.
Immediately, Wriothesley’s pace falters. He moans desperately and buries himself as deep inside Neuvillette as he can. “You’re fucking milking me!” He groans, disbelieving. His jaw clenches like he's in pain, but his hands clutch at Neuvillette's waist, holding him there. It intoxicates Neuvillette, fuelling him with vain pride. He's doing this. He's making his mate come undone. “Fuck Neuvi. Feels so good. I’m- I’m…. C-coming!”
Neuvillette comes with him, squeaking as Wriothesley’s cock pulses in him and-
And the condom is there, denying him the cum that is rightfully his, that he’s earned from his mate. The rings on his cock are there, denying him the orgasm that his mate has earned from him.
Neuvillette growls. There’s not even any satisfaction, only frustration. His biology doesn’t understand what’s happening. His slit pulses, trying in vain to milk that cum out and into him.
“Oh fuuuuuck,” Wriothesley groans brokenly into his shoulder. “Baby hold on I just…” But he trails off, tensing.
Neuvillette growls again when Wriothesley abruptly pulls out, dragging his cock over sensitive walls, but he stills when he sees what’s wrong.
Wriothesley’s cock is still hard. When he tugs off the condom it looks angry. It looks like it hurts. Wriothesley pants. His eyes flutter as he holds himself in one hand. “But I just….” Neuvillette wants to comfort him, to offer an explanation. But he can only stare at Wriothesley’s cock, smeared with his cum, and lick his lips hungrily.
“Is this a weird dragon biology thing?” Wriothesley asks. Even as he asks, his hand begins to pump his cock in little aborted movements that tell Neuvillette he doesn’t mean to do it.
“Maybe.”
“Neuvi, need you back for a second." Wriothesley fixes him with a half-hearted frown. “I feel like I didn’t even come. I’m not even tired.”
Neuvillette should be concerned. He should take care of Wriothesley, should stop this until they’ve got answers. Instead, he’s annoyed. Why does Wriothesley care? Why doesn’t he just shove his cock back in and fuck him stupid?
Neuvillette forces himself to breathe, because his mate needs him. “It’s… It’s the same for me,” he manages. “When I’m in heat I just… I can just keep going.”
Wriothesley exhales heavily, his brain ticking. “Okay… okay so it’s just a regenerative effect… Regenerative… Restoring… Refreshing. Like water.” He clicks his fingers, grinning. “It’s your hydro! And I've been-”
Normally Neuvillette finds Wriothesley’s genius devastatingly attractive, but right now he cares much more about that thick cock, full of cum for him. He tugs on his restraints, wiggling his hips so temptingly that Wriothesley halts mid sentence. “More?” He asks, hopeful.
There’s something dark in Wriothesley’s eyes as he re-focuses on him. He should crack a joke. That would be a very Wriothesley thing to do. But he doesn’t. He grabs another condom and climbs back on top of Neuvillette, pausing only to share a filthy kiss.
Wriothesley goes through condoms like they’re expiring tomorrow. He comes again, again, and again. At least four more times, buried deep inside Neuvillette. His dick never goes down and with each orgasm he grows a little more feral, a little more desperate. Maybe the heat is getting to him too. Maybe the fact Neuvillette wants him means he’s susceptible to whatever pheromones Neuvillette is giving off. Maybe he’s just going crazy from his eternally hard dick. Either way, they should stop.
But they don’t.
The fifth round he turns Neuvillette over, mindful of the cuffs, and fucks him on all fours. Neuvillette purrs happily the entire time, too heat-drunk to move even if he wanted to. Even when his top half gives out and he hangs limply between the handcuffs and his shaking legs, while Wriothesley just keeps pounding him into the sheets, growling in his ear. He bites down hard on Neuvillette’s shoulder and fucks him like a dog. Like a dragon. He pulls him back onto his cock by his hips, using him like a sleeve. Wriothesley has never been so rough and self-consumed with him.
He lifts Neuvillette’s head, biting at his neck, and Neuvillette babbles into the air. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop!”
“Never,” Wriothesley promises with a fierce bite. “Damnit. You know, I think this is getting to me too baby,” he jokes, like that isn't obvious. Like he hasn't drawn blood with his desperate biting. Neuvillette laughs incredulously, shaking with it as his head tips forward. Wriothesley laughs too, burying his face in Neuvillette’s hair as he keeps thrusting clumsily. Then he sighs, “Ahhh… I really wanna come in you.”
Neuvillette’s heart jumps.
“But we can't,” Wriothesley groans immediately. He noses over Neuvillette’s bare skin, sniffing and licking at his nape like a dragon might, “Fuck we can't but-"
“Please,” Neuvillette groans. His willpower has been exhausted by fruitless sex. “Please. Wriothesley. Breed me.”
“We can’t,” he repeats, clinging to those words in the storm, gritting it out as his nails scratch over Neuvillette’s sensitive scales. “We can’t, sweetness.”
“Pleeeeaase,” Neuvillette whines desperately. “Need it.”
“Baby,” Wriothesley warns him, biting.
“Yes!” Neuvillette gasps. “Yes, yes, a baby, give it to me Wriothesley! Don't you want to come in me? Claim me? Aren't you aching for it?” He clenches down cruelly, manipulatively.
The noise Wriothesley makes is unhinged, a plea for mercy moaned into Neuvillette's shoulders. “Stop it. I’m barely hanging on here.”
“Then let me come. Give me something! It won’t stop!” The unsatisfied, empty ache in his stomach is torture, and he can’t even relieve it by coming himself stupid. His cocks strain angrily against the rings, and his slit quivers desperately. “Hotter.... Hurts…”
“But you don't need to come right?” Wriothesley reminds him, a cruel crooning in his ear. “You just need me to.”
"It's not working! It's not WORKING!” Neuvillette shouts, desperation driving him beyond reason. He doesn’t care what he looks like, or what Wriothesley thinks of him as he pulls at the cuffs viciously, shaking his whole body. “You said you’d take care of me!” He whines, betrayed.
“Hey, hey, I am taking care of you!" Wriothesley fucks him harder for emphasis. “Whose cock is this inside you, huh?”
“Yoooours,” Neuvillette sobs. “But you’re so- so c-cru-el!” He stumbles over his words as Wriothesley’s cock bullies against his cervix. Wriothesley shushes him, whispers comfort into his hair, but Neuvillette is too far gone. “Please, pleasepleaseplease Wriothesley I need- need to come. Need, need, need-”
Wriothesley stills behind him. Neuvillette growls, snapping his teeth over his shoulder and trying to buck him off. Wriothesley ignores him. His hand snakes around, teasing past his cocks, to the spot where they join with his sopping slit. As Neuvillette struggles futilely, Wriothesley begins to rub. Maddening, evil circles over the electric spot of nerves.
Neuvillette’s hips collapse immediately, but Wriothesley holds him up with his other arm. He pulls Neuvillette flush against him, both of them kneeling upright on the bed, and forces him to take the overwhelming pleasure. At the same time he stops thrusting, his cock retreating until only the tip remains inside. "Which do you want more?" Wriothesley asks, a wet whisper in Neuvillette’s ear as he convulses.
"Nnnngh-!” Neuvillette’s vision blurs, tongue hanging out as he pants desperately. Wriothesley knows just where to touch him, just what his strange body likes. His hips buck into the wonderful feeling.
“Which. Do you want. More?” Wriothesley repeats, teeth catching on the sensitive, blue-scaled tip of an ear. “You want to come, sweetness? You want to feel good? Huh?” He kisses Neuvillette’s neck sweetly as his fingers pressing down so brutally that Neuvillette’s eyes roll back. “Or you want my cock in your pussy, filling you up?”
It’s perfect. It’s going to make him come. Wriothesley rubs sloppy, wet circles into him. But it’s not… it’s not…
“Cock!” Neuvillette sobs, shaking, and he doesn't care about his reputation or his manners, doesn't care about anything but- “Cock! Your cock! Please-!"
Wriothesley moans like an addict getting a fix, and then he’s pounding into Neuvillette and toying with his trapped cocks. Neuvillette twitches around him, pulling at the restraints around his wrists. Only Wriothesley's strength keeps them upright. “Keep begging me,” Wriothesley whispers into his ear. “I love hearing you talk like that. You never talk like that.”
His mate has given him a command.
“Want your cock,” Neuvillette grits out, fighting through the madness. Some distant, unimportant part of himself is horrified. “Want-! I need-! Breed me!” He sobs, everything but that singular demand flying out of his head as Wriothesley buries himself deep inside him and comes again. It’s perfect and awful. The rush is heady and sweet at first. But his cocks throb jealously, and his insides throb angrily as they stay as empty as before. The satisfaction barely lasts a second and then it’s back to eternal frustration.
“Fuck,” Wriothesley moans painfully. “Why won’t it fucking end.” He sounds just as broken and exhausted as Neuvillette feels. So Neuvillette snarls, wrenches his body back into Wriothesley’s hips and-
The handcuffs snap.
They shatter like glass in the face of Neuvillette’s draconic fury, barely leaving a mark on his wrists. Anything standing in the way of him comforting his distressed mate would fall this easily. While Wriothesley is still shaking apart, too hazy to do much more than bat at him, Neuvillette lunges, twisting them around until Wriothesley is under him.
They stare at each other, wide-eyed and nose to nose.
Neuvillette’s hair is wild and his horns and scales are glowing, a deep blue that lights up the room around them as if they’re in the ocean itself. Wriothesley is drooling all over himself. He’s bitten his lips raw and bloody. Neuvillette whines, leaning in to lick at them. Healing hydro soothes the bites, stems the flow of blood.
The bed is a soaked mess beneath them, and Neuvillette still drips around Wriothesley’s cock.
“Wriothesley,” he whines.
Wriothesley closes his eyes. “I know, I know me too.” He gathers Neuvillette to him, resting their foreheads together, sharing breath. Neuvillette’s hands span across his chest, clinging to him now he can finally touch. They kiss, spit trailing between them.
They shouldn’t.
They really, really shouldn’t.
There were a lot of good reasons for their agreement, but Neuvillette can’t remember any of them right now. All he can remember is that Wriothesley’s cock is thick and heavy, and there is a gaping cavern in his stomach desperate to take whatever it has to give. And won’t it feel good? Won’t it finally quench this madness? Won’t it bring him and his poor, suffering mate some sweet relief? Is that such a bad thing?
Neuvillette drags himself off Wriothesley’s cock. His mate groans beneath him, a broken, pained thing. There is a long moment, no sound in the room but their harsh panting.
Neuvillette’s hand goes to Wriothesley’s cock. Wriothesley’s arm is faster, a flash, and then they’re frantically pulling off the condom together.
“Just once,” Wriothesley pants as they toss the soiled thing aside. “Just- I’ll pull out. I won’t-”
“Yes,” Neuvillette agrees, not really listening, as he hovers over Wriothesley’s cock. “Just once. To calm down. To make it stop.”
“Make it stop,” Wriothesley repeats. His nails dig into Neuvillette’s hips like icicles. “And then we’ll- we’ll take a break.” Slick drips from Neuvillette and Wriothesley throws his head back into the pillows when it lands on his angry, ridiculously erect cock, trailing down the sides. “Fuck,” he curses. “Neuvi, yes, okay, okay we can so please-”
Neuvillette drops.
The hot wet flesh on hot wet flesh is a revelation.
It shouldn’t be. They’ve done this before. But he wasn’t in heat then. Now his claws scratch thin lines into Wriothesley’s stomach as he settles, stuffed, flush against his hips. “Ohhhhh fuck,” Wriothesley chokes. “Why does that feel so-”
Neuvillette abruptly begins to move, as much as he can with how badly his legs are shaking. Wriothesley helps, lifting him up and dropping him back down hard. Their skin, soaked in sweat and slick, slaps obnoxiously against each other as they move.
“You’re so wet,” Wriothesley huffs deliriously as his hands slip on Neuvillette's hips.
“Thick,” Neuvillette praises, shifting to tuck his face into Wriothesley’s neck. “Please. Please.”
“I’m in you, sweetness,” Wriothesley assures him breathlessly. “Shit, so deep in you… We shouldn’t be doing this.” But he fucks up into Neuvillette every time he grinds down, chasing friction. “We shouldn’t…”
“More,” Neuvillette gasps. “Breed me Wriothesley.”
“Can’t…” But Wriothesley's voice is shaking and he doesn't sound convinced of it himself anymore.
“Yes,” Neuvillette moans, feeling Wriothesley pulsing inside him, the way his heart picks up beneath Neuvillette's clawed hand on his chest. “Breed. Breed, breed, breedbreedbreed.” It’s a mantra and a plea breathed into Wriothesley’s neck. He's waited too long for this. Too many lonely heats without the one thing he desperately needs. The hands on his hips move him faster, harder.
“Fuck. Close,” Wriothesley grits out. “Close. Need you to get off-”
“Noooooo,” Neuvillette moans into his neck weakly. “No, no don’t. Don’t! Please! In me!" He fumbles deliriously for the right words that will convince his mate to stay. "In- In my pussy!" Wriothesley chokes like his favourite forbidden word is a punch to the throat. "Please, please, pleashe, pleasheeeee.” Wriothesley curses as Neuvillette slurs into his ear. He’s so close. He can smell it, Wriothesley’s desperation. He clenches down, trying to pull it out of him and into his womb. “Need your cuuummm. Pleashe!”
Wriothesley’s brow is furrowed, his abdomen tight. His grip on Neuvillette’s hip is bruising, but despite his warnings he makes no move to push him off. He easily could. Neuvillette is as weak as a kitten. Wriothesley is the one thrusting now, the one bouncing Neuvillette on him like a toy. All Neuvillette can do is hold on with sharp claws and plead as Wriothesley pulls him closer. He tilts his head to kiss wetly across Neuvillette’s cheek, until Neuvillette pulls his tear-streaked face from Wriothesley’s neck and slots their mouths together. They feed each other arousal, sharing it through their spit, creating a dangerous spiral until-
Wriothesley slams him down and holds him there as he pulses, as he finally shoots into Neuvillette’s waiting, all-too fertile womb. He makes a feral sound into Neuvillette's mouth - a howl, more wolf than man - and grinds Neuvillette against him needily. Just the feel of hot cum spurting into him makes Neuvillette come weakly with a scream. Finally, finally. Everything he's been craving. Months of screaming, maddening urges fall silent for a moment. The itching, aching emptiness subsides.
It's not just the build up of this heat that makes it so good, it's every unsatisfying heat before, every week of painful emptiness and wild hormones, finally sated. His slit clenches around Wriothesley greedily and Wriothesley’s moan is feverish, half hysterical. "So wet," Wriothesley repeats dazedly, his cock twitching as Neuvillette milks him to the last drop.
Neuvillette purrs into his neck blissfully, finally satisfied as Wriothesley comes in him like a proper…. “Mate.”
Wriothesley flips them.
Neuvillette’s back hits the soaked sheets. Wriothesley’s cock is still hard in him, and Neuvillette’s own are weeping.
“Mate,” Wriothesley groans as he ruts helplessly through the mess they’ve made of Neuvillette’s slit. A soaking mix of cum and slick. The whole room fills with the wet sound when he thrusts. “Yeah I’ll mate you. I’ll fucking mate you, sweetness.”
“Yesssss,” Neuvillette hisses, not really hearing him. Now he knows how it feels to give in, to get what his body demands, he wants more. He doesn't want Wriothesley to ever leave him empty and wanting again.
“We’re gonna be such good dads,” Wriothesly grunts as his cock churns Neuvillette into a shaking mess. Neuvillette squeezes around him, imagining Wriothesley tired and paternal, soothing their child. “You want that? Want us to have a little dragon?”
“Wan' your cum,” Neuvillette begs, because he knows Wriothesley’s asked him a question but that’s the only sentence he can string together.
“Fuck, keep begging me,” Wriothesley commands as Neuvillette writhes beneath him, out of his mind. “You wanna come too? From your cocks, like me?”
Neuvillette, too cum-drunk to care about anything but pleasure, nods. He hasn’t even thought about his own cocks, so focused on Wriothesley’s, but they ache, slapping against his stomach with every thrust, smearing pre-cum. When Wriothesley undoes the rings they weep faster, thicker, and Neuvillette knows the sensation building in him. The too-much, too-perfect wave that crests as his mate fucks his cum deeper into him.
Neuvillette arches, trying to squirm away from the relentless pressure. “No… no, no, no-ohhhhh!!” He screams because the pleasure simply has nowhere else to go. It fills up every inch of him and this is what he didn’t want, this is what he was afraid of, but he wants it, he needs it. His hands claw frantically at Wriothesley's shoulders, trying to warn him, to stop him, to pull him closer and beg for more. It's too late and-
Neuvillette squeals dumbly, humiliatingly, as he squirts all over his mate’s cock.
Wriothesley gasps, leaning back to watch Neuvillette spurting around him. Neuvillette's painfully hard cocks shoot so much that some of it lands on his chin. It's too fast and too slow. He feels every second. Just the sensation of cum finally pulsing up through his tortured cocks, the way they jump and twitch, makes him squirt harder. The torture drags. His eyes roll back into his head as his cocks and slit spurt together, in tandem, conspiring against him. He jerks wildly, limply, and his arms scramble on the bed, on Wriothesley's arms, searching for something to ground himself with. Wriothesley fucks his hips in short little thrusts, torn between the hot bliss of Neuvillette’s quivering slit when he fucks in, and the fascination of watching the fountain of slick when he pulls out. Neuvillette opens his mouth to beg him to stop moving, but all that comes out is more squeaking as Wriothesley's cock drags over his hypersensitive walls.
“Holy shit,” Wriothesley curses when Neuvillette’s legs finally stop trembling and he drops limply to the bed. His cocks dribble over each other and he can feel his own heartbeat in the pulse of his weeping slit. “You’re amazing.” Wriothesley’s next thrust is brutal, and Neuvillette shakes his head, pushing weakly at Wriothesley's chest. Wriothesley leans forward eagerly to lick Neuvillette’s own cum off his chin. “Come on baby, I want to see that again. Another. You can give me another one, right?”
Neuvillette, humiliated, cries into the pillow. “Nooooooo,” he sobs, desperately trying to control himself even as Wriothesley fucks him back to a peak. Everything is drenched. The bed, his thighs, his stomach, Wriothesley, the covers, the bag, the tattered remains of the cuffs. Even his face is wet with tears and their mixed spit. “It’s-” He hiccups as Wriothesley grabs his legs and folds him in half. He clutches at Wriothesley desperately as his cock reaches impossibly deeper, brutally churning slick and cum in his tired, aching slit. The noises. It's disgusting.
“It’s beautiful,” Wriothesley coos softly, as if Neuvillette's claws aren't raking over his back. “My perfect baby. Look what you can do, huh?” The praise sends tingles down Neuvillette's spine, and he shudders.
“Sorry! Sorry, sorry- oh! Nghhh- I’m sorry!”
Wriothesley shushes him with a sloppy, one-sided kiss. “For what? Huh? For being sexy? For being such a good mate for me, letting me know how good you’re feeling?” He licks over Neuvillette’s mouth. “It’s okay baby. You’re with me, yeah? Your Wriothesley. You can lose yourself here. I want to see it.”
Neuvillette whines. “Mate…”
“Yeah, exactly. Mate. So come for your mate.”
It is not a suggestion.
His fingers crook under Neuvillette's cocks, furiously fingering that bundle of nerves as he grinds so deep. Neuvillette – sensitive, aching, his cocks still full of unspent cum - shrieks as his cocks jolt and he gushes. Slick forces it's way out of him brutally, bordering on pain. Wriothesley pulls out to watch. He groans happily, drowned out by Neuvillette’s incoherent squeaks, as slick splashes onto his face.
“Wri-” Neuvillette convulses, moaning whorishly as Wriothesley's hand frantically rubs at his cocks, prolonging his orgasm, forcing another dribbling fountain of slick. “I- You- mmmmm! OH! OHHHH!” Wriothesley is already moaning into his slit, digging into him with his tongue. Neuvillette can’t even protest, bent in half and suffocated by his own weight. His hands tug weakly on Wriothesley’s hair. Even that is damp.
“Fuck!” Wriothesley surfaces, shaking himself off like a wet dog. He looks feral, eyes dark and grinning as he licks Neuvillette's slick from his lips. Any other day Neuvillette would refuse what happens next, but his mate wants to kiss him. So he kisses back, tasting his own joy on Wriothesley’s tongue, as Wriothesley slips easily back into him. His long tongue twines around Wriothesley's, messily stealing air from him.
“Gooood. That’s my good baby. You want a reward? Huh? You want more cum?" Wriothesley breathes quiet filth across his lips and Neuvillette nods eagerly, chasing his next orgasm with a freedom he’s never felt. “Yeah you do,” Wriothesley grunts. “I’m gonna breed you so good. Fill your pussy up as many times as it takes. Gonna fuck a baby into my baby.”
“Wri- AH!” Neuvillette squeals and chirps with another flood of slick.
“That’s it,” Wriothesley coos. “Keep coming for me sweetness and I’ll keep coming for you, yeah? How does that sound?”
It sounds wonderful, and that’s exactly what they do. Wriothesley comes deep inside him and Neuvillette squirts on his cock. So Wriothesely tuts, says he’ll have to make sure none of his cum escaped… and the cycle repeats. They cling onto each other, one single body that cycles from orgasm to orgasm. They kiss messily, wetly. Neuvillette makes a mess everywhere, squealing like an animal but feeling no shame. He's going mad but he doesn't mind, because Wriothesley is there. Wriothesley who pulls him back together as he shakes apart, just to fuck him back to pieces again. Wriothesley who coos and praises him whenever he hides his face, kisses him until he’s purring and chirping happily again.
They both get silly as the night wears on. There’s no way to tell time under the sea, no way to know how long they stay wrapped around each other. They're drowning in the dark blue room and the only light is from Neuvillette, glowing with his pleasure. Time doesn’t feel real and neither do the consequences, the flood of seed in Neuvillette’s womb. They don’t tire, not with Neuvillette’s hormonal hydro replenishing them.
“Mine," Wriothesley pants at one point, as he has Neuvillette bent in half again. There's so much cum it's leaking out of him, and surely, surely it's enough. Surely it will take. "All mine. Love you so much Neuvi."
Neuvillette squeezes one of the hands that tangles with his own. "Yours,” he laughs around the word, hysterical. "Love you! Love-! Y-! Luhh-! L' yuh- HNNNN!" He garbles, slurring stupidly as Wriothesley slams in and out, in and out. Except it's more than that. This is something else, something he has never experienced before. A feedback loop of mutual desire. This is something his body knows to search for by instinct. Everything feels so perfectly right in a way it never has. So full of Wriothesley's cum, drenched in it, he feels utterly claimed. There’s no shame, no embarrassment. This is the home he has never had, the safety he has always had to provide for himself. This is…
“Mate,” Neuvillette chirps. He mouths over Wriothesley's neck, driven by an instinct nobody has ever taught him, and when Wriothesley comes into him again with an exhausted moan, he sinks his fangs in.
Wriothesley scrambles into their nest like a man pursued, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Neuvillette, still recovering on the bed in Wriothesley's shirt, tilts his head.
“Sigewinne is never going to let me live this down,” Wriothesley groans as he staggers to the bed and hands over the potion.
Neuvillette takes it and smiles, fondly. “I’m sure you exaggerate.”
“It’s bad enough I had to tell her the problem in the first place, but she asked me if I liked killing babies, Neuvi,” Wriothesley complains. He collapses onto the bed with an embarrassed groan.
Neuvillette tuts. “She’s teasing you. She knows very well there is no baby to harm.”
“She invited me to The Fortress’s safe sex info-lectures.”
Neuvillette flushes.
“If you’d gone to ask, she wouldn’t have said that to you." Wriothesley rests his head on Neuvillette’s lap and covers his eyes.
“There, there,” Neuvillette hums, petting through his hair gently. He strokes one claw over the tender bite mark on Wriothesley’s neck. The matching one on his own throbs. “Next time we will know in advance that this will be necessary, and we can get it from a pharmacy in the court.”
Wriothesley peeks up at him from behind one hand. “Next time?” He asks. “So you still want to… even though I was a terrible partner?”
Neuvillette blinks. “You? Wriothesley you were a wonderful partner. You took such good care of me." When Wriothesley still avoids his gaze Neuvillette kisses him, then curls around him as a normal dragon might in its nest. “Thank you, truly,” he says softly. “For fetching the medicine, for…” He flushes from memories that make his stomach clench.
“For fucking you full of my cum until we couldn’t fit anymore-”
“Yes, that.” Neuvillette sniffs distastefully. He's not embarrassed. He just has manners. "But mostly for being so supportive.”
Wriothesley shifts, examining him. “And you feel okay? No more heat side effects, no soreness, not too much... embarrassment?”
Neuvillette smiles. “No. None at all. For the first time I have left my heat feeling… truly satisfied.”
Wriothesley looks at him with a dopey, fond look. Then his eyes drift to Neuvillette’s stomach. He sighs and reaches out, pushing his shirt out of the way to rest his hand on flat skin.
Neuvillette rests his hand on top of Wriothesley’s. He does not need words. Not with his mate.
Another time.