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It was only a matter of time before those… feelings he was still learning about would catch up to him. Morax was not a stranger to gentler emotions, his ruthless and irritable behavior mostly something relegated to the battlefield after so many centuries spent living among the compassionate companions he could call family, but…
Love was something he had yet to understand in its entirety. Not familiar or friendly love, no. Morax had plenty of people he would not hesitate to call his friends, whether they were his subordinates or not; it did take him a while to get used to that particular feeling of closeness, being largely a stranger in a land full of danger and uncertainty when he appeared in Teyvat, but discerning between friends and acquaintances came easy to him now.
It was romantic love that evaded him, slipping away from his grasp every time he tried to settle on an explanation for that foreign concept.
Morax was privy to others experiencing that particular kind of love, seeing it both around him and between the people he ruled over, but there was a tinge of unknown that never fully allowed the god to learn what it meant to be that close to someone. To him, love was something to discover, and yet also something he could end up not understand at all. A mystery of the strangest kind in both existence and experience.
But then, he came into his life.
An ancient being, older that the earth himself almost, trapped deep underground where the light never reached. Morax did not know what to expect, when the light of the sun descended upon that old dragon without eyes.
At first, his instincts told him to stop, a brief yet powerful shout from inside his mind reminding him of how impossibly threatening such a meeting could be. It was against the unspoken rules of those world, for a sovereign and an archon to exist in such harmony together, a blemish on both of their histories.
There was supposed to be hate between them, a malignant, never ending loathing between the rulers of the ancient world and the usurpers who came after.
Morax could not understand why no such hatred was in his heart while Azhdaha became alive again, breathing in the fresh air of a land purged from the flames of war. He gifted him a pair of golden eyes, precious as the god’s life itself, shining brightly under sunlight and glowing dimly even in the darkest of nights, and Azhdaha simply chose to stay by his side.
The gnosis embedded in Morax’s chest should have repelled the dragon, or at the very least triggered aggression and resentment, but it never did. Its weight remained snugly hidden in the god’s very being, unneeded yet necessary, and Azhdaha willingly accepted a contract with the one who bore a piece of his power.
From the very beginning, it was as if they were fated to be together, guided to one another despite the world itself wishing for them to be at war.
They became inseparable, both on the battlefield and outside of it, traveling through Liyue side by side like two halves of the same coin. Slowly, their friendship evolved into something more complex, something that had Cloud Retainer look at them with a bizarre glint in her birdlike eyes.
The two dragons could never be found without the other. Azhdaha even forged a human-like form for himself just to be at Morax’ side wherever he went. It was beautiful, a big and tall frame roughly sculpted in unyielding rock, with a mane of brown and gold hair that rivaled Morax’s own. The horns atop his head were much bigger than Morax’s more delicate antlers, and the god often found himself caressing them gently, admiring their shape and strength.
In no time, Morax could not deny that the flutter in his stomach and the quickened beat of his heart were a direct result of Azhdaha’s mere existence beside him. They would follow him wherever he went, from morning to night, stopping only when the ancient dragon he fell for was not around. And when he wasn’t, a different kind of feeling would take their place, a strong, intense longing that Morax had never been struck by.
A powerful dragon god like him falling prey to an emotion that was so human... while Morax could paint himself surprised at that development, he was not bothered by it. Far from it, in fact.
Enough time had passed since his first time stepping foot in Teyvat. His indifference and stone-cold behavior had since morphed into a great, warm love for humanity and all its deep-rooted emotions; if anything, Morax could only be overjoyed at his ability to finally experience what those under his rule knew by heart.
Putting it in words, however… that was an entirely different story, and a predicament Morax was currently struggling with. And failing to hide it, apparently.
«Is something troubling you?».
Worried, Azhdaha turned to look at the god beside him, tilting his head a bit like he would do in his dragon form. Morax had a frown adorning his otherwise calm expression, brows furrowed over the perfect cut of his features. Carved in stone, yet soft nonetheless.
They were enjoying the stillness of a quiet sunset, basking in the warmth of a sun that would soon disappear beneath the horizon; such a pastime was common for the two, who were often found by the Adepti on that very mountain top, sitting in comfortable silence as another day died down to welcome a new night.
A sigh was the first response Morax gave Azhdaha, supporting his weight on one arm as he leaned back to look up at the sky, soft grass beneath his bare hand. It was not often than he let himself stay uncovered, his clothing becoming more and more intricate and heavy as time passed by. It did not help that Menogias kept gifting him those beautiful garments he simply could not say no to, despite how different they were to the usual minimal layers worn by the beasts.
Still, he chose to stay simple that evening, wearing nothing but those large, slit pants that accompanied him during the first days of the war, forgoing the rest of that outfit as to let his draconic features be comfortably out. Even his hair were wilder than ever, tangling around his glowing antlers as the breeze took a hold of some strands.
«I do not know if this could be described as a trouble», he eventually said, his voice barely breaking the silence, kept low as to not disturb the quietness of nature. His gaze was fixated on the sky, its color slowly bleeding into darkness as the vivid light of the sunset faded away. Stars would soon begin littering that vast expanse, a never-changing mandala telling Teyvat a story that should not be uncovered.
There was beauty even in that.
Morax shook his head, not daring to look at the dragon beside him: «Rather, I would personally not consider this a trouble, yet I do not have the words to properly solve this predicament I found myself struggling with».
That was certainly a first. Morax was the only one who never ran out of words to say, his voice always the last to die down when their conversations ended, and reluctantly too. He would talk for hours on end, and Azhdaha would never grow tired of listening, even after dozens of stories. His voice was soothing, gentle yet strong when recounting the past and inventing the future; there was so much comfort in the sound, the dragon could never rid himself of it.
Well, maybe there was a hidden reason for it, but Azhdaha was not going to be the first one to unearth it, not without proper thinking first.
Their situation was… peculiar, to say the least. In fact, they both knew it should not be a situation at all, and yet there they were, sharing their company under the dying sun as if only existing beside one another should not be a greatest sin.
«What is it about?», the dragon asked, turning ever so slightly away from him, trying to give Morax more space without distractions. «Maybe we can get to the heart of the problem together». Like they always did, as of late. It did not matter if blood or words were involved, one would not work without the other.
Morax swallowed dry, a foreign feeling for him. Shocked to find out his hand was trembling, he closed it into a tight fist and shut his eyes, trying to reel in the agitation that took a hold of him. It was unbecoming of a divinity, such uncertainty, but he could simply not bring himself to ignore those sensations. They grabbed him, shook him, and refused to let go.
Not even his fight with Osial had been so brutal, in his heart.
«I… do not know if it is appropriate this time», he said, finally opening his eyes to look back up at the sky. Maybe Celestia was looking down and laughing at him, or maybe they were waiting for the perfect moment to strike him down. Collude in such a way with an ancient dragon sovereign… surely the Heavenly Principles would not want a similar outcome.
But they were asleep, were they not? Had they not be, Azhdaha would still be in the darkest depths of the earth and Morax would be no more. Powerful as he was, a single god was no match for the entirety of Celestia. Never had been, never would be.
He raised his trembling hand to brush it over his face, letting out a bitter laugh: «Who am I trying to mock, myself?», he shook his head, a weak smile following those words. «So keen on denying myself. I will be my own downfall, one day».
«…Morax?».
«Us», the god answered, stopping Azhdaha from adding more to his name. It sounded so heavenly when called by him, whether with passion in battle, or with gentleness outside of it. Morax wanted to hear it more, called in most pleasurable moments, spoken in the kindest, softest tone possible afterwards. What a selfish, forbidden wish. «It is about us».
Azhdaha felt his heart skip a beat, breathing caught for a moment. He did not dare look at him, now, fearing the expression he might find on his face. Regret, anger, resignation? Those were feelings Azhdaha was terrified to witness on Morax’s beautiful features, at least when addressed to him.
He swallowed down a lump in his throat and sat silent, any sound lost for the moment. How could he talk, when his voice could crack at any time if he tried?
There was a long moment of silence, stretching between them like stormy clouds blanketing the sky. In a way, Morax was waiting for thunder to strike him down, for Azhdaha to speak up and put an end to that difficult conversation, but it did not happen.
In fact, when the god turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of him, what he saw on his face made his chest tighten.
Was it… fear?
Ever since he gave Azhdaha his eyes, a gift too precious to even describe, never had Morax seen such a strong fearful emotion in them. There had been moments where both of them experienced fear to small extents, for whatever reason was valid in the moment, but to see it during what should have been nothing but peaceful talking…
Morax took a deep breath and shuffled closed to him, as if in reassurance. He did not know how to comfort people, much less someone that sat at the same level as him. Warm affection was difficult for him to understand still; maybe the only way for him to grasp its concept was not to witness it, but to partake in it.
«I am being tormented by uncertainty about my own understanding of life», he broke the silence, taking note of how much of an effort he had to put in for his voice not to shake. «Even after so many centuries spent existing in this world, my grasp of fundamental concepts like feelings and emotions is still lackluster. Forgive me for that, if you are able to».
Forgive him for… not being emotionally literate? Azhdaha would have let out a soft laugh if the situation was less tense.
However, the more Morax talked, the more worried the dragon became about what exactly the god wanted to express and was not in a position to so do. What if he noticed those feelings that were supposed to be hidden, and now did not know how to break it to Azhdaha that he could not return them?
After all, there was no history of other lovers in Morax’s book. All those pages were blank, empty, completely white.
Cloud Retainer did tell Azhdaha about a couple flings the god had with Osial, on one evening they all got far too drunk to think about staying polite and well-mannered in their topics of conversation, but it was clear that nothing happened between them other than carnal pleasure.
That, and Azhdaha knew for a fact there could not have been actual love written in the pages of Morax’s story. Dragons were a fickle thing, when it came to love. They could not love as freely as many others, bound to forever be tied to one single mate for as long as they lived. Only erosion, with its all-consuming power over the world, could weaken and erase that strong connection. Nothing else.
«Morax, you…». A deep breath. «Just say what you want to say. Beating around the issue will do both of us no good, be direct and do not ask for forgiveness».
Maybe his tone was too blunt, but sometimes it was the only way to get the point across with Morax.
«A heart of stone is a heart nonetheless», Morax gave a soft sigh mixed into a weak laugh, bending his head. The words were so heavy on both his mind and tongue, there was no way to get them out easily, the weight of them a burden on his shoulders. «Harming you accidentally… it is not something I wish to do, lest I would cause you to abandon me».
That last sentence, Morax felt it tremble as it left his lips, there was no amount of self-control that could prevent it.
He pressed his lips into a thin line, shuffling ever so slowly a bit closer again, but there was a liquid sheen to his eyes as the god spoke again: «I do not understand my feelings, Azhdaha. I only know that they are strong, and that I care for you more than I have ever cared for anyone else».
If it was love, Morax could only be terrified of what it entailed. If it was not, then a confusion unlike any other he ever lived through would never leave him.
«I hate how much I care about you», he said, his heartbeat quickening in fear as he felt a tear rolling down his cheek, voice fully breaking. «I broke my rules for you, and yet now I hate that I probably love you because I do not know how to process all of this».
The silence that followed after horrified Morax. Showing such a moment of weakness to a dragon sovereign, of all creatures… a god, an archon should never fall prey to powerlessness when faced with an equal.
But then, the gentlest, softest touch of a clawed hand reached his face, catching the tears that would not stop falling. Morax raised his head, guided by that hand resting on his cheek, thumb brushing away new tears as they fell, and met a pair of brilliant, caring eyes. Only for a fleeting instant. Then, a pair of lips pressed against his and Morax could not think anymore, his heartbeat so loud it filled his ears to the brim as he returned that tender kiss.
When they parted, Morax could not help but press his forehead against Azhdaha’s, his hands shooting up into his hair to hold him close with a certain type of desperation he never quite experienced before.
«Do not hate your feelings for me», Azhdaha whispered, caressing Morax’s face with soothing touches, his hand slowly making its way up to the god’s antlers. «For I have the same ones for you».
They both broke the rules, so why hate themselves for it? If Celestia wanted to strike them down, they would have done so the moment Morax gifted eyes to that dragon of old.
They were only a breath away from kissing again, but that time it was Morax who closed the gap, bolder and hungrier than Azhdaha had been. The dragon felt Morax’s hand move, one to the back of his neck and the other to his waist, and that was their undoing. Without enough support to keep themselves sitting upright, they tumbled on the ground, Azhdaha pinned under Morax’s weight.
It took a moment for them to realize their predicament. Then, Azhdaha started laughing and suddenly captured Morax in a hug, rolling around in the grass until he was the one above the god, kissing him until they both became breathless.
It came so naturally to them, to both of them, Azhdaha had half a mind to latch his teeth onto Morax’s neck, hide his face in the crook of it, inhale the intense, familiar scent of blood and earth that was inherently part of the god’s being.
«Push me away, Morax», he murmured against his lips, catching the lower one between his teeth as they kissed again between words. «I do not know if I will be able to stop now that I know my feelings are returned».
As if Morax could ever have the strength to push him away. Instead, he parted his legs for Azhdaha to settle more comfortably between them, a low purring vibrating in his throat: «If there will ever be a moment where I relinquish control to someone, Azhdaha, this is it», he replied, instinctively baring his teeth when their hips accidentally brushed together. There was interest showing from both of them, undeniably at that point.
That line had already been crossed the moment they kissed.
It was reckless, to rush into things after barely managing to get their feelings out in the open, but Morax’s own biology was yelling at him to claim his mate, and to be claimed all at once. Dragons were not slow in taking each other once a deeper connection was sure to exist, so why deny the inner machinations of their own bodies?
«I will lay my claim on you another time», he closed his eyes, accepting yet another possessive kiss, one that left his lips red and swollen, a taste of blood on his tongue as they reluctantly parted. It was so different compared to those few escapades with Osial, so fundamentally stronger, so much… more.
Morax bared his neck, leaning his head back to offer himself, a vulnerability that one else had ever witnessed from him: «Lay yours on me, first».
A dragon baring his neck to his partner… Azhdaha bent down to latch his lips onto the skin there, charcoal black and gold merging into pale pink, kissing and biting and licking, unable to stop himself from getting more and more of Morax’s taste on his long forked tongue.
His hands splayed on the expanse of Morax’s bare chest, relishing in the firmness of those muscles that led armies into war, and his ears drank every last one of the noises rising to them.
«Morax…», he called, kissing and liking down his chest, drunk on the feeling of the god submitting so readily and wholly to him. «Let me hear your voice».
«I have no intention of holding back from you», Morax reassured him, each word coming out strained already, the least one ending in a moan as Azhdaha took a nipple in his mouth and started playing with the other one using his fingers.
It was a novel feeling, that one; Morax almost never indulged in the pleasures of the flesh by himself, limiting to a quick and fast release whenever he became too pent up to ignore his needs any further, and Osial could never dare too much. Azhdaha was his mate. He could dare, he could take, he could give as much as he wanted. Morax did not need much time to come to terms with that, now that everything was out in the open.
His own body prevented him from thinking too much, craving the touch of the other dragon just as much as humans craved water to survive.
Morax arched his back into the hungry mouth devouring him and moaned more, following Azhdaha’s movements down his body, lower and lower until his tongue licked right at the juncture between hip and leg.
«Take them off», he told him, his voice shaking with unexpected yet not unwelcome pleasure. «Touch me, I want your hands on me». There was a hint of desperation in his words, one that shocked Morax himself, but should he even feel so surprised? He knew how it worked between dragons. He knew that finding a mate would send both of them into a frenzy as soon as the first physical touch was initiated.
And yet, he was Morax. He was the lord of geo, the stone-faced god who trampled thousands in his wake. He was the divine being who’s spear would pierce even the strongest opponent, one who caused rocks to rain down on the battlefield.
How could he become so pliant so suddenly? How could he welcome Azhdaha’s hands on his hips, slowly undressing him as his gaze took in the shapely form of his body, eating him fully before even setting his mouth back on hard, hot flesh.
The sound he was rewarded with as soon as his mouth was on the twin weight of Morax’s cock caused a ripple to go down Azhdaha’s spine, his own pleasure washing over him like the crash of a waterfall. The god was so big on his tongue, the ridged catching on his lips as he moved up and down, taking just as much as he was giving.
He could not use his mouth on both at once, so his hand was put to work, each movement stealing yet more moans and growls from the once stoic figure beneath him.
Morax was beautiful already, but witnessing him become so disheveled, so lost in the pleasure given to him, only spurred Azhdaha on. He wanted to see more, hear more, feel more. He could not wait until the heat of Morax’s body was around him, and his own cocks twitched at the mere thought of it, hard as they could be.
Just because he was the one pleasuring the other, it did not mean he was not immune to the effect that act itself had on him.
A hand sneaked its way into his hair, the other grabbing a horn so tightly Azhdaha was almost afraid it could be broken, and all thoughts went out the window.
Morax pushed him down, forcing him to take all of his length, the girth of it taking up the full space in his mouth, and Azhdaha could not wish to be somewhere else in the entire world. He was drooling, truly making an unsightly mess of himself, but he could not bring himself to care.
His mouth was full of Morax, the taste on his tongue more delicious than anything he ever tasted up to that point, and he did not want to stop.
Even when he choked, Morax’s cock lodged deep in his throat, Azhdaha did not move. He allowed the god to take his fill, to fuck his throat with languid strokes becoming more and more erratic; by the time Morax’s release hit him, Azhdaha’s own climax had his body seize up and fall limp for a moment.
He swallowed every last drop, any embarrassment for coming without even undressing pushed in the deepest, most hidden parts of his mind, and nuzzled his face against Morax’s inner thigh. Neither of them was done yet.
Morax’s cocks were still hard, proudly standing despite the golden release of the god staining his chest and dripping down Azhdaha’s lips. The god was dazed, head thrown back in bliss, but his hands were still tugging at the dragon’s horns to have him continue. He was not using his voice, but the low rumble vibrating under his skin was just enough, matching perfectly the sound Azhdaha himself was making.
Two dragons mating was no short event, and while they were both far too gone in each other due to their first time together, their minds still had enough clarity in them to know what to do next.
«You made a mess of me», Azhdaha breathed out a laugh, crawling back up so he could kiss Morax again, forcing his tongue in the god’s mouth, making him taste his own release on it. It was a wet, filthy kiss, with wandering hands making the most of that situation even with both dragons lost in groundbreaking feelings.
Morax’s palms grabbed the expanse of Azhdaha’s ass, slithering under the now dirty pants he was still wearing, and a moan caught in his throat upon feeling those slender, pure black fingers push and prod at his rim.
Not enough to breach, but intense just the same, if only for the awareness that it was Morax doing it, it was Morax touching him in such a sensitive place.
«And I am waiting for you to make an even bigger mess of me», was the retort, almost lost in yet another kiss. They were being so obscene, behaviors unfitting of their status, but who could muster the strength to care? Certainly not Morax, and certainly not Azhdaha too, judging by how quickly he finally divested himself.
The sticky mess of his release was still between his legs, clinging to the hefty presence of his cocks, similar to Morax’s own. Gold, too, if only a bit darker.
To think he was able to make his mate come just with that, just by fucking his mouth… Morax could not stifle the sound that came out of him at the thought.
Ever the one to listen, Azhdaha scooped up some of that golden release still pooling in the divot of Morax’s abdomen and brought his fingers down, tentatively brushing between his cheeks before pushing in slowly. A world of a difference between doing it himself, and yet another first for the old god, flooded with sensations so strong he could just lay back and let out lewd sounds as Azhdaha worked him open, coaxing more and more whimpering noises out of Morax.
Such shameful sounds they should be, coming from a high and mighty god ruling over land and people alike. Morax could not be more proud of them, knowing the only reason they existed was Azhdaha kneeling between his legs, touching himself as he thrust his fingers deep inside his partner.
One, two, three fingers working tirelessly inside of him, curling in just the right way to send white-hot pleasure down Morax’s spine, his back arching and his hips pushing back on that wicked hand. Azhdaha was not going to give him both right away; the first mating between dragons was to savor, slow and steady, devoid of the frantic movements and primal possessiveness that their next encounters would have.
It was mates getting to know each other’s bodies, exploring them fully without the need of unhinged frenzy. They were not two young dragonlings in heat, after all.
They were old, so old that time itself could be shaped around them.
Morax mustered his strength to latch his arms around Azhdaha’s neck and pull him down into another kiss, languid and unhurried, savoring every last second of their lips moving against each other and their tongues intertwining, catching on their fangs.
«I want to bite you», the god said in the crook of Azhdaha’s neck as they interrupted the kiss, sharp teeth grazing rough skin as he spoke, though his words were dotted with pleasured sighs. A bite like that… dragons marked each other in many ways, but that kind of mark would be forever. No one else would ever have that, no one else could even dream of it, let alone hope for such a privilege.
«Then do it», Azhdaha’s voice rumbled, droplets of sweat shining on his forehead as he pulled his fingers out, straining in the effort not to come again. Morax was simply delectable, and imagining the searing heat of his body not around his fingers, but around the thickest of his two cocks… it would be enough to make even the strongest of wills crumble to dust. «When I am inside you, bite me. Make me yours just as much as I make you mine», he added, the purring his in chest becoming even louder when he nudged one of his cocks at Morax’s entrance, the other one laying right beside the god’s.
Morax arched his back, his eyes rolling back, and Azhdaha cursed under his breath as he pushed inside slowly, enjoying every single second of that tight, wet warmth. The hands propping him up clawed at the ground, dirt seeping under his sharp nails and grass being torn in the process. Azhdaha was sure the earth would forgive him for that, eventually.
«You… ah, you are so tight», he gasped, breathing heavily to try and keep his composure in check. He did not want to come so soon, Morax deserved to be loved as much as he could, for as long as… well, not humanly possible, but more than that. «Morax…».
Toes curling already just by feeling the shape of Azhdaha carving a path inside him, Morax’s hands shot up to find purchase on the dragon’s large back, scratching at the scales and ridges lining his spine. It was so much, too much almost, and not enough all at once.
«Move», the god commanded, his authority bleeding into the breathless noises that had been pouring non-stop from his lips. They had not been doing all that much, every action kept simple, every act limited to a minimum, but nothing of that fell short on intensity. The dragon caging him in was not some simple adeptus or mortal yearning for Morax to fuck them into submission, and neither a god demanding pleasure by taking his body. He was so much more, so incredibly important, so unique and special that the god almost wanted to cry when he finally gave a first, tentative thrust with his hips.
«Ah, yes… move», he moaned, his legs falling even more open, his hips moving up to meet each studied thrust in earnest. Azhdaha started slow, the drag of his cock quick in bringing Morax to the brink of his sanity; soon enough, the god was moaning and groaning endlessly, broken words somehow slithering their way into incoherent sounds mixed with loud, vibrating purring rumbling from beneath his chest. His heart beat so fast it seemed like wanting to jump out, and even a divine being learned that shortness of breath and clouded vision could be a thing as soon as Azhdaha started picking up the pace, fucking into him with deep, perfectly angled thrusts that made Morax cry out in pleasure each and every time.
«More, again», he growled, earning a low grumble in response. «Go faster, I…ah, I need you». Morax latched his fangs on the junction between the dragon’s neck and shoulder, where hardened flesh gave space to softer tissue, only to let go moments after, lapping at the skin with impatience. He was ready to bite down hard, to draw blood, to lay his permanent mark on the one rocking his body back and forth between heaven and bliss: «Azhdaha… g-give me more!», he commanded, his voice all but a draconic roar now, both legs locking around the dragon’s waist to pull him impossibly closer and deep.
«Fuck, you… Morax, I… mh», Azhdaha was trapped between Morax’s legs and arms, a hold made of stone, moaning in tandem with the god. No amount of control over his partner would stop him from vocalizing his pleasure, his thrusts becoming erratic, without rhyme or reason.
His arms gave out under the weight of their union, the strength of their combined emotions far too much for Azhdaha to handle all at once, and he remained propped above Morax with only enough distance to be a breath away from kissing him. His other hand moved between their bodies, grinding together with each push and pull, wrapping itself around his and one of Morax’s cocks, all of them weeping gold.
He pressed their foreheads together, rocking Morax’s body back and forth, kissing him to satiate a thirst that only became stronger as they neared their peak.
«I will not… last much longer», the dragon warned him, moving his hand so that Morax’s neglected cock would still receive some friction. The combined feeling of the god’s burning heat engulfing him and the one of his hand pleasuring them at the same time was too much. «Morax-».
The god snarled at him, baring his teeth: «If you dare coming anyplace that is not inside me I will bite you til you bleed out», he threatened, far too lost to care about what and how he was speaking to him. Azhdaha only fucked him rougher after that, showing his fangs as well, instinct clouding their judgment before they could realize it.
«You are mine», Morax clawed at his back, leaving angry red lines in his wake, Azhdaha’s free hand moving to the small of his small to hold his back arched and off the ground. There was only one single thought in his mind, now. Everything else was gone, the need to mate, mate, mate so strong it overcame all existing sensations.
His shoulders protested the abuse of being rubbed against dry ground so harshly, but Morax did not care. All he cared about was Azhdaha’s cock carving its way inside him deeper and deeper, the ridged catching inside him, making stars appear behind his glazed over eyes. The dragon was worse for wear, too, and it took only a handful more thrusts before he slammed their hips together and came, flooding Morax’s insides so much it leaked out almost immediately.
That was the moment Morax chose to bite down, hard, so hard he tasted blood on his tongue and moaned around it, every single muscle in his body tensing up with the best, most extraordinary orgasm of his life so far.
He could feel Azhdaha shake in his arms, warm blood trickling down his back and onto Morax’s hands, but the dragon did not let go. He kept him there until he was completely spent, until he was full of Azhdaha’s load and their stomachs were smeared with honey and gold, until the taste of his mate’s blood became sweet and intoxicating to drink.
Only then he let go, struggling to catch his breath, and crashing their mouths together all the same to show Azhdaha the extent of their bond, to thrust his tongue almost down the dragon’s throat as he staked his claim on him.
When they parted, the blood that was only on Morax’s lips and chin was staining Azhdaha’s face too, and he could not help but lean in and lick it clean. He could not resist the allure of blood on his tongue by itself, so when it came to his mate’s… as long as he was the one who spilled it, how could he stop himself from wanting to have more?
It took them a while to come down from their high, so completely and utterly gone that they just crashed like that, one of top of the other, mindless of the mess that their bodies were. It was not always going to be so intense, that much Morax knew. The first union between mates would never be rivaled in the future.
It did not mean they could not try, however.
The thought, so sudden and improper, made Morax burst out into an amused laugh and he hugged Azhdaha close. They were mates. They were mates!
The god grabbed Azhdaha’s face between his hands and peppered it with kisses, on his lips, cheeks, the tip of his nose, forehead, everywhere he could reach until his eyes fluttered open and he responded to that bout of affection with kisses of his own.
«Maybe I do not hate caring about you», Morax said after they both calmed down, grounded by the weight of his dragon keeping him stuck to the ground. «Maybe breaking those rules was worth every drop of this love».
Azhdaha hid his face in the crook of Morax’s neck, cheeks heating up at those words. They just had the most mind-blowing sex of their entire lives, but gods forbid he listened to something so beautifully loving and kind without blushing now.
To think he was the one with gentler emotions between the two…!
Shifting his body, though, he was reminded of a very important detail they overlooked after coming back to their senses, so he braced himself for the complaining Morax was going to do after he pulled out of his body. Which he did, in the form of growling for a moment, before shaking his head and putting his instincts back in check.
«You will have plenty of opportunities for breeding», he said, voice lowered to a murmur, despite his words having no real value with them being both men. «I may ask you to do just that to me, next time».
Right as he said that, Azhdaha found himself flipped under Morax, two blackened arms glowing golden at both sides of his head and eyes devouring him on the spot. Only, the god did not attempt anything other than stealing a messy kiss from him. There was still golden come spilling out from his body and down his thighs, a stark contrast against the black stone-like scales, and they were both far too exhausted to go again.
Dragons had incredible stamina, that was true, but it was also true that Morax and Azhdaha went through quite the emotional struggle before bonding themselves to each other. That would be enough to tire out even the most stubborn of creatures.
He smiled, reaching up to caress Morax’s face: «Night has fallen, my beautiful god. Let us get cleaned up before someone sees us».
«Mh», Morax agreed, looking down between their bodies, the mess even worse now that he manhandled Azhdaha to be under him. «Indulge in some sleep with me, tonight?».
To that, the dragon only smiled.