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Aliens, Dunk thought, shoulder and spine straight, eyes fixed on the same piece of whitewashed wall as they had been for the last few hours. They are aliens.
He should have listened. Behind him Aerion’s chambers were silent, a disquieting absence of noise, especially given the sounds that had come from them before. The prince had not looked at him when he had strutted into his chambers, the red scales running down his neck somehow glistening even more than usual, spiked tail flicking around impatiently.
It was unusual for Aerion to not acknowledge him, neither with a disdainful sneer nor a curt insult and Dunk knows he should be happy about this. It was never good to have a dragon’s attention, no matter how diluted this blood had become over the years and Aerion was the best proof for this.
Still. Still... Normally Aerion paid attention to him. Made his displeasure at whatever Dunk, clad in the white of the Kingsguard now, did more than clear. There had been not much Dunk had done right so far in Aerion’s eyes.
Understandable, Dunk thought, to a degree. Ashford had been a bloody first encounter. He supposes he could be glad that dragons valued blood.
Egg had just shrugged when Dunk, bruised and broken, had asked why his brother would demand of his uncle for Dunk to be in Aerion’s service after everything. “We like to collect things,” he had said, gray scales dotting his neck blatantly obvious, now they weren’t hidden underneath his robe anymore. He had not said just who we was exactly. Dragons or Targaryens, and was there truly a difference, Dunk had thought grimly.
Thick as a castle wall, it echoed inside Dunk’s head, whenever he had seen the tail of the young prince during the first few months back in King’s Landing. Much smaller than his brothers’ or father’s but truly, it should not have been as easy to hide it from Dunk as it obviously had been.
At least his teeth had not grown uncannily sharp yet. Those were dangerous. Dunk knew that one from experience.
The silence behind him was broken all of a sudden. “Get in here!”Aerion bellowed, voice somehow even more furious than normal. Dunk felt himself tense. There had been strict instruction from both Baelor and Maekar to not go inside. He was there to stand guard, Baelor had said. He was there to make sure his fool of a son did not cause another incident, Maekar had countered, his tail wrapped tightly around his upper arm, black scales melting against his dark robe.
It was a sign of tension, Dunk had come to realize over the last months. The tails gave away whatever feelings lurked behind even the calmest surface and mostly it was anger but sometimes it was joy or sadness, though he had only seen the former in Egg and the later in Daeron so far.
Baelor, his deep green scales as always making him look more regal than fearsome had put a calming hand on Maekar’s shoulder and Dunk had watched in fascination as Maekar’s tail had relaxed ever so slightly.
“You know what he threatened. It’s the best option,” Baelor had said. His own tail had been calmly resting behind him and if there was something to be gleamed about his actual feelings from it, it was beyond Dunk’s understanding. “Make sure he does not leave his chambers and do under no circumstances enter them yourself,” Baelor had told Dunk. “Don’t fuck this up,” Maekar had added and that had been that.
And now this. “I won’t ask twice, cur,” Aerion hissed and there was the sound of something smashing. Dunk was surprised there was anything left to break in his chambers, given the sounds that had come from the room the last hours.
And really, he ought to object. Tell Aerion that he was under strict orders from both the future king and Aerion’s father.
And that while he was maybe an idiot, he wasn’t deaf. He had heard the whispers. The rumors. He had been in King’s Landing, in Aerion’s service, long enough now to see it himself. Members of the royal family, confined to their chambers, guarded with not even servants allowed to enter. It happened once with Maekar so far, more often and more regularly with Valarr and Aerion and at seemingly erratic intervals with Daeron.
They don’t tell me, Egg had sulked, tail flickering irritated when Dunk had breached the subject with him, reluctant and hesitantly as with all things connected to his dragon heritage. “I’m not old enough yet, they say,” he had added and it had given Dunk at least some small insight into what this might be about.
All of which is why he really ought not go inside.
“Ser Dunk, this is an order.” Only Aerion had a way of making Dunk do many things he ought know better. Slowly he turned towards the door behind him. Slowly he pulled it open. Slowly he walked inside the room.
He was met with destruction and an angry dragon. His eyes snapped away from the broken plates and overturned furniture towards Aerion immediately, instincts making it very clear where the danger inside the room laid. And Dunk had no doubt that Aerion was even more dangerous than usual in this very moment.
Snarling, tail twitching wildly, pale violet eyes fixed unblinkingly on Dunk and faintly he remembered the stories of how dragons fed on human flesh and wondered if some still might.
Gods, Dunk thought, Aerion looked absolutely radiant though. His scales, bloody fiery red, were a stark contrast against his pale white skin, glistening in the confusing heat of the room.
He was wearing a simple shirt and breeches, ripped open at the neck, showing off his chest, glistening with barely dried sweat. And then his eyes, scorching and piercing, more beast than man. Dragon eyes, Dunk thought and if there ever had been any doubt if Aerion and his kin truly were their descendants it was completely gone now. No mortal man could look like this. No mortal man should look like this.
“Close the door,” Aerion said and his voice was still a simmering fire but from up close, Dunk could hear something else in it now. Impatience which wasn’t new, desperation which he had only heard once before.
He quickly followed the order, unwilling to ignite even more of Aerion’s ire, even though it was something he seemed to be quite good at, no matter his attempts.
“Took you long enough,” Aerion hissed once the door was closed, voice deeper than usual, an angry growl. “Apologies, your grace,” Dunk replied automatically. “I am under orders from Prince Maekar and Prince Baelor to…”
“Do not fucking talk about my father and uncle right now,” Aerion interrupted him, voice rising again. He stalked towards Dunk and if there were still true dragons around, Dunk had no doubt they would look like this, hunting their prey.
He swallowed heavily, throat feeling dry.
“You are aware of what this is,” Aerion said once he was standing in front of Dunk. From up close, Dunk could see that it was not merely his skin that was covered with a thin layer of sweet but that his eyes seemed clouded, almost feverish. His tail, normally used to strike or whip at Dunk if he did something Aerion took displeasure with, came forward, resting behind Dunk. Almost like he was trapping him, Dunk realized.
“I am … I am not, my prince,” he stuttered, feeling even more like a fool than usual. He should not be here, he thought. Not just inside Aerion’s chambers after strict instructions not to enter. Not even here in the his service, in the Red Keep, in King’s Landing.
But then what was a mortal man to do if a dragon lays claim to him.
Aerion snorted disdainful. “Well, it does not matter,” he then muttered, almost to himself. His eyes wandered over Dunk, a hungry glint in them and Dunk’s throat, already oh so dry, felt like he had swallowed sand now.
“You serve me, Ser Dunk, do you not?”
It felt like a trap but Aerion, who ran hotter than anybody Dunk had ever met before was almost burning now, radiating heat and it was why Dunk felt like this, weak in the knees, unable to tear his eyes away from the prince in front of him, unable to run from the gaze of this hungry beast who looked at him like he was but prey. Unable to figure out just how to escape this trap. Unwilling maybe to do so.
“I do, your grace. I serve you,” Dunk replied because what else could he truly say.
“Good,” Aerion said, voice a satisfied growl and then his tail, fast as a viper’s strike, was suddenly wrapping itself around Dunk’s lower half, pulling him closer.
“Then serve,” he hissed and his lips were upon Dunks.
There were a few precious moments where Aerion merely kissed him, where his lips were soft, so damned soft, and he had not thought this man, this dragon made human, capable of anything resembling such softness. Then the kiss turned into a bite, sharp canines digging into his lower lip, pulling harshly as Dunk could not hold back the whimper escaping him.
There was the cooper taste of blood spreading in his mouth and Aerion pulled away briefly, a triumphant smirk appearing on his face, vanishing out of Dunk’s vision instantly again when he leaned forward to lick over Dunk’s bloodied lip. Dunk’s vision was swimming, body drumming with a heat that must be due to this closeness to Aerion.
“M-my prince,” he somehow managed to force out, shuddering when his lips made contact with Aerion’s skin. It felt like the man was burning up underneath him, Dunk thought. Had he a fever? Or gone mad? Or rather even madder.
“I don’t … I shouldn’t … you’re not…” “In my right mind?” Aerion said, leaning away from him. There was blood on his long split tongue, and he slowly licked over his upper lip, Dunk unable to tear his eyes away from the movement. “I suppose I am not. You are talking to the dragon, ser. Not the man.” He kissed him again, harder and more desperate than before, licking deep into Dunk’s mouth. He couldn’t hold back the groan escaping him at that.
“Let me call for your family, your grace,” he forced out when Aerion leaned away from him again.
“I do not wish to have any of them here,” Aerion snarled. “Who is it you serve?”
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t deny the heat anymore. Aerion might have been burning but Dunk was on fire too. Dragon fire, Dunk thought dimly. Dragon eyes. And a dragon had his way of making a man do many things he ought know better.
“I serve you, my prince,” he replied. A growl, deep enough to bury itself into Dunk’s bones and the tail that had rested loosely around Dunk’s waist pulled him closer now, wrapped itself around him tightly.
“So serve me,” Aerion whispered before kissing him again. Dunk returned the kiss without a thought this time, pushing against Aerion. His hand came up, hovering over Aerion’s waist, unsure if he was allowed to touch. An impatient sound coming from Aerion who moved away from the kiss again, leaving Dunk to let out something close to a groan at the loss of contact.
“Get those clothes off,” Aerion demanded, pulling off his own shirt as he did so. Dunk was left staring as more pale skin was revealed, seeing just how far the scales truly reached. He had thought they stopped at the shoulders but now he could see that they trailed all the way over the rest of Aerion’s body, running down his sides, towards his hips and crotch.
“Get on it, dolt,” Aerion snapped and Dunk flinched before his body finally obeyed, tugging off his armor. His shaky hands dropped them on the ground, unable to look at anything but Aerion, now fully naked in front of him. The scales stopped before they reached his cock and for a brief moment Dunk mourned the vision of Aerion’s cock, red as the rest of his scales.
It was still an impressive sight, hard and leaking at the tip, reddened and throbbing with the blood that had flown towards it. Dunk swallowed heavily, thinking suddenly of getting on his knees for Aerion. He had not gone willingly in the past, when Aerion had demanded it of him. He would now.
“I’d have your mouth first if the dragon’s fever wasn’t burning for too long already,” Aerion said though. “The dragon wishes to breed, you know. To mate. Claim.” The tail came up once again, wrapped itself around Dunk and then pulled. Dunk stumbled forward, almost collided with Aerion who quickly stepped aside and gravity and Dunk’s height and weight did the rest.
He landed on Aerion’s bed, bend over it and then he felt the heat of Aerion suddenly behind him.
“There’s a reason we stay hidden when we get like this,” Aerion hissed against his ear. His tongue came out, the split dastardly thing licking along the lobe of his ear, along his cheek.
“Nobody wants to have a bunch of bastards running around.” He could feel Aerion’s cock rubbing against his arse and Dunk ached into it, body desperate for the contact, the heat of Aerion’s cock, skin, everything.
“This will not be a problem with you, will it, Ser Dunk?” Helplessly Dunk shook his head.
“N-no, my prince,” he mumbled. Shuddered at the sudden thought though. Would dragon seed maybe take, he wondered. His cock, half-hard already, twitched with interest. Would it be fertile, pumped into Dunk’s body? Would it somehow, miraculously, magically, make him swell up with Aerion’s brood, all dragons, the lot of them, no doubt. Dragon blood was powerful. This he had learned. This he did not doubt.
“Spit,” Aerion ordered, voice coming almost from a distance and Dunk obeyed, saliva dropping onto the hand Aerion held in front of him who withdrew it after he had done so. He could hear sounds behind him, wet skin moving and shuddered when he realized Aerion was touching his cock, getting it wet. Wet enough to do what the dragon fever urged him to do.
Mate. Breed. Claim.
Hands wandering down his hips, pulling his legs apart, roughly, impatiently and he obeyed without hesitation. He could feel Aerion’s cock against his arse once more, lining itself up, felt his body tense up at this. He had done this before. Not often though. No, not nearly often enough to now lay with a dragon.
Aerion’s hands against his hip stilled for a brief moment and Dunk wondered if he could feel his tension. The dragon would not care and neither, Dunk thought, would the man surely.
Hot breath against his ear then though. “Who do you serve, Dunk?” Aerion whispered and Dunk closed his eyes. Fire, fire coming from Aerion, Burning him and he wished to burn so badly in in it, in Aerion’s fire.
“You,” he whispered. “I serve you, Aerion.”
And with a growl Aerion pushed forward, burying his cock inside Dunk. The stretch was too much almost, the wetness from Dunk’s spit not enough to ease the way at first but Aerion kept pushing, forcing Dunk’s body into obedience, the way he had become so good at these past months of service. He started thrusting, uncoordinated, uncontrolled, hitting something deep inside Dunk after a few thrusts.
Dunk’s cock, hanging neglected between his legs, was growing achingly hard, leaking at the tip. Every thrust of Aerion’s rubbed the sensitive head against the soft silk of the blanket underneath him, and he rutted against it helplessly, half in tandem with Aerion’s thrusts, half his body searching for its own release.
He stopped when Aerion’s fingernails dug painfully into his hips, Dunk groaning as the pain only served to heightened the sensation of Aerion’s cock fucking into him.
“You will not spill until I allow you to,” he hissed. A half-broken moan coming from Dunk instead of an answer. He could feel Aerion’s fingernails scratching over his skin, likely leaving bloody lines. Talons, Dunk thought, claws. He pressed into Aerion’s thrusts, desperate for more, desperate for Aerion to fill him up.
“P-please,” he chocked out, eyes falling close in a heady mix of heat and pleasure and over stimulation. “Please, my prince.” Behind him he could feel Aerion’s thrust growing even wilder and he clenched around his cock, wanting to keep it inside him, wanting it to spill already, to fill him up.
Mate, he thought. Breed. Claim. A sudden pressure then around his hip, the feeling of scales and alarmed he opened his eyes, being met with red.
Aerion’s tail, he realized. Wrapped around him, holding him still, holding him tight. And then Aerion’s thrusts faltered and with one deep final growl, Dunk felt heat spilling deep inside of him, body kept in place as Aerion spent himself.
The feeling, the heat of it, almost was enough for Dunk, still desperately hard, to spill himself but there had been the order so he just whimpered softly.
Aerion collapsed on top of him when he was done, when his dragon seed had filled Dunk completely. His skin, still feverishly hot but less like pure fire, felt like a mark against Dunk who was close to begging again.
“My prince,” he began, voice rough, desperate. “Touch yourself,” Aerion mumbled, face pressed against his back. Dunk waited for him to move, get up but Aerion seemed intent to stay where he was, his tail still wrapped tightly around Dunk.
It was difficult but he somehow managed to get his hand between him and the bed, managed to wrap his hand around his cock, rutting half into it, half against the bed underneath. Focused on the feeling of Aerion’s seed dripping out of his used hole, on the man’s hands still resting loosely on his hips, on the tail of the dragon wrapped tightly around him.
Spilled so quickly and intense that it would be embarrassing if he was not so desperate. He felt his own seed cooling against his skin, having soiled what was likely very fine bedding underneath him, faintly wondering why Aerion’s seed seemed to somehow still almost burn inside him.
On top of him Aerion finally moved and when Dunk twisted his head, he was met with violet eyes staring straight at him. Had he watched him, Dunk wondered. When he had touched himself, when he had spent and somehow desperately Dunk hoped that dragons could not read minds too.
“Move, dolt,” Aerion mumbled, less bite and fire than usual. Dunk made to move, half wondering how Aerion expected him to get up with his limp body still pressed against his back, only for Aerion to make an irritated sound.
“Not like that,” he grumbled and then his hands and tail forced Dunk higher up onto his bed who let it happen, half because his own body still felt shaken, half due to surprise.
Aerion plastered himself against him the moment Dunk was lying on his bed, tail coming up to wrap itself around Dunk again.
“The dragon fever still has to fully burn away,” he mumbled, eyes closed and from this near, he did not look as menacing anymore. An illusion, Dunk was well aware, but truly what was he to do, held tightly by Aerion’s tail, buried half underneath him.
“I shall serve you until it’s finished,” Dunk replied.
“You shall,” Aerion said, eyes still closed. “And afterwards too.”
“As long as you wish, my prince,” Dunk replied because he knew it was what Aerion wanted to hear, because maybe it was what he wanted to say. Felt the tail wrap itself even tighter around him at that. Thought faintly that dragons liked to collect things. Wondered if this one maybe had decided to collect Dunk.
He ought to get away. But underneath a dragon, man did many things he ought know better.