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Mating Flight

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J’sen shook his hands, trying to will them dry. When it didn’t happen, he wiped them on his thighs. Calm. He needed to remain calm. There was simply no other way he was going to live through this. He’d done this before, after all. This was nothing new.

It just always felt brand new. Every single time that Carinth, his Green, got ready to rise for another mating flight, J’sen felt like a scared, skittish virgin all over again. Shards. He pressed his forehead to the cool rock of the wall and took a deep breath as he prayed for a bit of dignity.

It wasn’t even time yet and his cock was already hard and throbbing between his legs, just from the excess pheromones that Carinth was putting off through the telepathic link. He shifted irritably and just barely stopped himself from reaching downward to help ease the pressure. It wouldn’t do any good. Nothing would help until Carinth was ready to fly.

Some of the other riders in the Weyr had already started to give him the look: that leer that said that they knew just what J’sen was going through and they were loving it. It was usually followed by a little wink that smugly insinuated that they knew who was going to be the one fucking J’sen’s brains out. Damn them all. That would be why he’d sequestered himself for a little while—just enough time to grab a hold of his wits before they took off with Carinth.

It was the price he paid for being a Dragonrider. For 'impressing' with a Green, no less. Everytime that Carinth mated, J'sen did too. Whether he wanted to or not. It was hardly an unusual occurrence: Every Greenrider in the Weyr had to put up with the same thing. J'sen, though, felt that it wasn't quite the same for the others as it was for him.

He knew why Carinth's mating flights were treated a bit differently than those of the rest of the Greens, of course. It had little to do with the dragons themselves. Knowing that information, however, didn’t make him feel any better because he didn't know how to fix it. The looks that the other Riders gave him—the Blues and the Browns and even some of the Bronzes—were less about giving it to the Greenrider and more about giving it to J’sen, specifically. He wasn’t exactly known as the friendliest guy in the Weyr. Yeah, sure, maybe J’sen could be a little bit nicer but sometimes it was just hard. Especially when there were people like that dimglow Bronzerider J’red running around, cracking tasteless jokes. What the Hell did he know, anyway? J’sen didn’t submit by choice and damn J’red for suggesting otherwise. With a smug little smile on his face, too. The bastard was just lucky that J’sen hadn’t punched him in the face right then and there. J’sen wasn’t exactly in his right mind, after all. No one would hold him that accountable for his actions.

The only that had actually stopped J’sen from doing so was the fact that Carinth had responded to J’sen’s anger and immediately bitten a Blue that had gotten too close. That had distracted him enough that he’d let J’red get away with his usual, irritating garbage.

There were a few, though, of the riders currently milling around outside that J’sen wouldn’t mind bedding down with. Some he’d even enjoyed before. Outside of a mating flight. They were usually the ones that kept their mouths shut, though, and didn’t feel a need to go bragging to the whole Weyr about their exploits. Riders like K’nan, a Brownrider with a nice smile who always thought about J’sen after everything was all said and done. Carinth had mated with his Bareth a couple of times in the past. Maybe J’sen would get lucky and Bareth would win again.

Just as long as it wasn’t M’cal, the Bluerider who loved to taunt J’sen with all the filthy thoughts his mind could muster. Thinking about it make J’sen’s stomach turn. Anybody but him. Anybody. J’sen would die if he’d have to lie back and spread for the likes of M’cal.

It was almost time. J’sen could feel it. He could feel Carinth. Shards, but the entire Weyr was nearly buzzing with the energy and J’sen knew that it was high past time that he put in an appearance. This would be Carinth’s second flight of the year, her fifth in total.

The fifth time that J’sen would be forced to be intimate with a random Rider from the Weyr. And it never got any easier.

J’sen schooled his face and calmly ignored the heads that were turning in interest as he stepped out of his room and made his way down the hall. He kept his eyes straight ahead because, nervous or not, he could do this. He could hold his head high and pretend that this was an ordinary day and that his legs weren’t starting to tremble. He could pretend that the whispered rumors that he’d been hearing for days about Carinth’s next flight and the bets on who would finally “get to bed that arrogant prick rider of hers” had never even been uttered. He could ignore, for a little while, the shivers of both revulsion and arousal that were skittering down his spine. The only ones who J’sen acknowledged on his journey were J’frey, the Weyrleader who nodded to J’sen on his way through and Hilarie, rider of the Queen.

On Carinth’s first mating flight, J’sen hadn’t exactly been dignified. It’d involved a lot more begging than he’d ever cop to, a lot more behaviors that still had the power to make him blush if he allowed himself to think about them. It had been the most humiliating experience of his life but he just hadn’t been able to stop. He’d just been overwhelmed by the desperate fire licking through his veins. K’nan had taken him that time—J’sen’s first and maybe that was why J’sen had a lingering fondness for K’nan and his gentle touches.

As J’sen reached the main platform, stepping in front of the assembled crowd to see Carinth one last time before she began her fifth mating flight, he could feel the anticipation hovering in the air. He quirked a sardonic smile. There was nothing quite like a mating flight to get the Weyr residents out en masse. He was still hard and he knew that everyone could see that—could feel them staring at his crotch—at his ass if he was facing away—but at this point what did it matter? In a matter of minutes, he wasn’t even going to have a choice. Probably wouldn’t even want one. Carinth turned her head, fixing him with one jeweled eye and J’sen felt his anxiety, his worries, start to drain. Everything will be fine, she wanted him to know.

J’sen felt a real smile pulling at his lips. It was so typically Carinth to want to try and soothe him when her wings were starting to twitch with the urge to fly. And he didn’t even really have to do anything; she was the one who was going to be doing all the work. He felt a small kernel of guilt for causing her distress because the crackdust circling around in his mind was all just him second-guessing himself. Being silly and acting like a noodle-brained virgin all over again. It’s nothing, he thought to her. Fly far.

Really, the hardest part of Carinth’s mating flights were the starts. After it began, J’sen would find himself slipping into the heat of the moment, feeling the thrill of the chase and the hazy lust. In the past, he’d even found himself staring at the different Riders who were circling him, wondering blatantly who would be the best in bed or who would have the biggest cock and shamelessly hoping that Carinth would be caught by that Rider’s dragon. He was even starting to do it now because M’sha was very flexible wasn’t he…

In the blink of an eye, Carinth was off, launching herself off the ledge and J’sen gasped, flooded with the sensations that she was streaming towards him. He stumbled forward, just barely catching himself and making himself stand upright again. Around him, the increasingly more aroused Blue and Brownriders, stepped forward, as if to catch him, and then their dragons were off too, in hot pursuit of Carinth.

Fly, J’sen thought, feeling pride filtering in through the excitement stirring inside of him. His Green was one of the fastest in the Weyr. Damn near uncatchable.

Around him, the Riders were starting to pace, restless, and J’sen felt himself break out into a sweat. They knew better than to come too close right now. He’d gouge out their eyes if they dared to touch them. But that didn’t mean that they weren’t going to stay just out of reach, watching him hungrily. J’sen shivered. Despite his reservations, his body was thrumming just from having so many eyes on him, undressing him, wanting him.

J’red had probably been right. Maybe he did enjoy this in some way or another.

M’sha licked his lips outright, not bothering to hide and J’sen moaned, unable to help himself. He was throbbing, aching, and desperate to do nothing more than just hit his knees and give in already. The only thing keeping him upright was Carinth. She had more restraint than him.

Carinth was flying far and long, swooping over the mountains and heading towards the open fields that were miles to the east and J’sen knew that she would make it easily. Carinth had unusual stamina for a Green. Already, she was outpacing some of the smaller Blues, making them give up and turn back. She’d been outrunning them for miles, zipping in and out of the mountain valleys and showing off her tip-top shape. Carinth was making this one to remember. She was going to make it last.

J’sen shifted his weight, moving slowly just to ease the tension that was coiling inside of him and he couldn’t stop the hand that was skimming down his chest; his body needed to be touched and he was already starting to tremble beneath even his own fingertips. The unconsciously teasing move made some of the bolder Riders inch closer, encroaching on J’sen’s space, but they stopped long before they reached him, still leering at him like starving dogs slobbering for a juicy bone. J’sen’s eyes darted around the room at waist level, hoping that he wasn’t being too obvious about it or at least no one would notice with the other distractions. He swallowed hard and wiped at the sweat that was gathering on his brow. Carinth and he, they just had a little longer now. A little longer before they could ease this unbearable ache inside of them.

The only thing that J’sen could really hope for was that the man who bedded him tonight would at least be tolerable. J’sen had had some good experiences during Carinth’s mating flights and he’d had some…not so good ones. Like that Bluerider, C’ray who not only had rolled off of J’sen before J’sen had even had a chance to finish, leaving him strung-out and needy, but had also tried to brag to the entire Weyr of his “prowess” and how he had “J’sen just begging me for more. You should have heard him!” The good news was that, after J’sen had gotten his revenge, it was unlikely that C’ray was ever going to let his Blue fly in one of Carinth’s mating flights again.

In the heat of the moment, J’sen knew that he wouldn’t care but, at the moment, he still partially did. And he was still picking out his favorites and his hopefuls. M’sha was shamelessly rubbing himself now and J’sen’s eyes were drawn to the movement like a moth to flame.

A harsh whispering broke through J’sen’s reverie—finally loud enough to snap him out of his lust-filled haze. And it was getting louder. J’sen turned to look behind himself, curious to see what the fuss was about when the focus of the Weyr should have been on Carinth and him. He was unused to hearing anything but heavy, aroused breathing and the occasional soft murmur to one’s self during the mating flights. As he turned, though, and caught sight of who was causing the commotion, J’sen forgot to breathe entirely.

None other than J’red, Bronzerider and arrogant asshole extraordinaire, was striding through the assembled crowd, calm as you please, and pretending like he belonged. “A Bronzerider?” some were quietly saying. “What’s a Bronzerider doing here? Doesn’t he know that he doesn’t have a chance with a Green? She’ll out-maneuver his bulky Bronze for sure!”

If J’red cared about any of the harsh whispers, he didn’t show it. He marched to the front of the crowd and stood there plain as day, proudly presenting himself just inside of J’sen’s self-imposed bubble of personal space and eyeing J’sen up and down like J’sen was already his. The thought made J’sen’s blood boil with something other than arousal (even though it irked him that, yes, that was still there, thumping through his veins).

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, keeping his voice low enough that only the front row and J’red could hear him.

J’red smiled, cocking his head and tilting his hips forward as his hands rested on them, and J’sen cursed his own automatic response and how his eyes focused with pinpoint accuracy exactly where J’red wanted him to. It was no secret around the Weyr that J’red was…sizable—in more ways that one—but J’sen didn’t need to be thinking about that right now. Or ever. Chalking it up to momentary insanity brought on by a mating flight, he suppressed the small surge of lust and glared at J’red, demanding an answer. J’red shrugged, still not losing his smile. “Peroth wanted to fly.”

“As if Peroth’s overgrown body could ever catch Carinth,” J’sen snapped. J’red didn’t get angry at the words; he just smiled harder.

“We’ll see,” he said and dropped his eyes to J’sen’s crotch. J’sen swallowed and looked away, not wanting to give J’red the satisfaction of getting a stronger response out of him. He wanted to step back, put a bit more space between himself and the overgrown oaf in front of him (such a perfect match, J’red and Peroth: both huge behemoths), but that would just put him into contact with the Riders behind him. Riders that he knew would have wandering hands and damn the consequences if he got too close to them. So he stood his ground as J’red leered.

J’sen bit back a snarl. Let the bastard stare then. It wasn’t as if his Bronze had any hope of catching Carinth. It wasn’t as if the dimglow actually had a chance of getting into J’sen’s bed, either. J’sen would sooner kick him out the other side.

Carinth was starting to climb. She’d long since reached the fields and so many of her would be pursuers had dropped back but she was fast running out of stamina. It was nearing the end. J’sen tried to take a deep breath but it clogged in his throat. The best he could do was short and shallow—desperate little pants. K’nan’s Brown was still in the running; J’sen had known that he would be. So was M’sha’s determined little Blue and, of course, Peroth. There was no Green in the world that could fly for longer than a Bronze after all, but J’sen had hope that Carinth, sweet clever girl that she was, would lose him in the clouds. She might not be able to outrun Peroth but she could certainly fly circles around him. J’sen felt himself begin to shudder helplessly.

Fingertips brushed his face and J’sen’s eyes flickered open in surprise and anger. Who would dare touch him at a time like this? Before Carinth was even caught and right when J’sen was connecting? J’red was staring straight at him, his mouth slack and looking dimwitted, and J’sen smacked him away before closing his eyes again, trying hard to ignore the fact that he could still feel the touch, phantom-like, on his skin.

Carinth was zipping and zooming out of the clouds, deftly avoiding the clutches of her pursuers and proudly trumpeting her superiority. Bareth tried to fly in front of her, catch her that way, but she flapped her wings and backtracked, turning on the head of pin. With Peroth nearly bowled her over, she merely just jumped up above him and climbed higher, spinning as she avoided the Blue.

Her only mistake was perhaps trying to show off too hard. For when Bareth tried his trick again (it had worked in the past), Carinth repeated her maneuver, this time adding a defiant little spin on it which spun her away from where she’d thought that Peroth was going to be. But he wasn’t flying right behind her—he was soaring off to her left and she spun directly into him. With a scramble of grasping claws, it was all over because Peroth’s grip couldn’t be broken once he held her tight and Carinth only gave a token struggle—too exhausted to do much else—before she was being penetrated and they were plummeting towards the ground together, slowed only by Peroth’s gigantic wings spreading above them.

J’sen was feeling himself being pushed down, as well, shoved off balance as someone tried to force him into one of the private rooms. He caught himself on the doorjamb, trying to resist because he was being overcome with the lust flooding down the link. His own emotions, though, were battling it, sending him reeling. Disbelief, shock, and anger were warring inside of J’sen. Peroth had caught Carinth. The overgrown Bronze whose body mass should have kept Carinth safe was currently mating with J’sen’s lithe little Green which meant… J’sen opened his eyes just as J’red finally managed to push him into the room.

“Let go of me,” he gasped, shoving J’red away from him, stumbling backward. He wouldn’t. He didn’t care what tradition said, what his body said, what the bond said. He wasn’t going to bend over for the slime sucker in front of him. He’d rather have M’cal with his degrading innuendos and the bragging he’d do for months afterward! M’cal would make his life a living Hell for the next year, but anything would be better than mating with J’red. At least with M’cal it was just innuendo. No one would believe him.

J’sen’s body, though, was trying hard to get him to reconsider. Theoretically, J’red was hot and, actually, it didn’t matter if he was or not. J’sen just needed. J’sen’s knees buckled and he plummeted towards the floor. J’red caught him, yanking him up by his wrist as an arm reached J’sen’s waist to prop him up. “By the Egg, J’sen,” J’red growled. “Would you just relax?” His voice was warm and husky and sent shivers up and down J’sen’s spine.

That didn’t stop J’sen from punching him.

The hit landed directly across J’red’s jaw, wrenching his head to the left. J’sen felt himself being dropped and he tried to brace himself for the embrace of cold stone. It never came; instead, soft furs caught him as he landed on the room’s ready-made bed, sprawling out from the alcove. J’sen glanced around in bemused amazement, still not quite sure how he’d gotten into this position and the momentary distraction was all J’red needed. He was on J’sen in an instant, his big hands roughly pinning J’sen’s hands, his long legs forcing J’sen’s apart. J’red glared down at J’sen for a moment, the red bruise of J’sen’s fist starting to darken on side of his face, before he bent down, sealing his lips to J’sen’s. He licked once, asking for permission that J’sen was too shocked to grant or deny, and then he was thrusting his tongue inside of J’sen’s mouth anyway, mimicking exactly what he planned to do to the rest of J’sen’s body.

J’sen jerked his head to the side, flattening his cheek to the bed as best as he was able. “No!” he shouted, fighting against J’red’s hold. Not with him, not with him, Great Faranth, not with him! He expected J’red to ignore him, to strip J’sen and take what he wanted anyway. That would be just so J’red, to continue on regardless of anyone else’s wishes and, frankly, if J’red pushed the issues, J’sen knew that he’d lose the will to say no in just a few minutes. His body would betray him.

The forcing of the issue never happened. His refusal had stopped J’red in his tracks. He paused above J’sen, still holding him down, his hands pinning J’sen’s wrists, his hard cock throbbing against J’sen’s, and he was practically vibrating but he moved no further. J’sen risked a glance at the man above him.

J’red looked pained. He looked liked he was being tortured, as if hot pokers were being pressed against his skin. “For the Egg’s sake, J’sen,” he choked out, “could you be agreeable just this once?” His hips rocked against J’sen’s as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and held it there until J’sen was sure that he was about to draw blood. “Please?”

J’sen swallowed and glanced away again. J’red in ecstatic agony was a sight that was sure to stay with him for the rest of eternity and if he looked any longer, he’d probably cave entirely. J’red was hot enough, he’d always been, even when J’sen and him had been growing up. They’d just never gotten along. But it was all just a moot point, wasn’t it?

He knew that he was being ridiculous. There was no turning back now. Not with Carinth had made her choice and J’sen was stuck in the room with J’red. All he was doing now was delaying the inevitable. He just needed to accept this. “Just get it over with,” he growled back, keeping the tension in his body because if he was going to let this happen, he was still going to make J’red have to work for it. He wasn’t going to give in willingly because it was bound to be awful no matter what he did.

“No,” J’red snarled and J’sen jerked in surprise, turning to look at him again and the anger in J’red eyes took him by surprise. J’red looked absolutely furious.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” J’sen demanded, not understanding. “Fuck me already!” Okay, yeah, sure, it was rare that J’sen actually was bedded but that was by choice. No one had ever refused him before! And what had happened to J’red's rough desperation? Where was that when J’sen needed something to fight against?

J’red rolled his hips again, grinding his cock against J’sen’s and scowled down at him. “I mean, you dimglow, that Peroth and I did not spend months training for this so I could get the opportunity of a lifetime just for me to have to force you! Scorch it, J’sen, I thought you’d be into this!” Wait. Training? J’sen’s mind paused in mid-flight, feeling like he’d been lost between. Groaning in pain, J’red rolled himself off of J’sen and flopped onto his back beside him. “Forget it. I don’t even want it now.” The hand straying to his crotch and gripping hard belied that.

Well this was… This was… This was not the way this was supposed to go. When J’sen had ever allowed himself to idly think about what it might feel like to be taken by as big of a man as J’red—someone who made J’sen feel a little bit small, which was rare—he was allowed to think about such things as long as he never carried it through and even as a teenager J’red had at least been tall—he’d thought that the sex would be a lot more forceful. Rough. He’d thought that he’d have his face shoved into the bed and told to keep his ass up or else.

He hadn’t thought that he’d have a 6’5” jackass lying beside him, complaining that J’sen wasn’t begging for it. J’sen sat up, sheer anger burning away at the lust. “What do you mean you don’t want it?” he hissed. That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get fucked within about two seconds and J’red was claiming that little bit of trash?

“I mean, I’ll just jerk off,” J’red snarled. “Go get bent.”

“You can’t just jerk off!” J’sen shouted in J’red face, leaning over J’red’s prone body beside him. “It’s an egg-blasted mating flight!”

“I know that!” J’red yelled back but J’sen didn’t believe him. He didn’t think that J’red had a damn clue what this all meant because he couldn’t recall a single time that Peroth had ever caught a female. That possibly meant that…

“Fucking inexperienced—”

J’red snarled and rolled them, putting J’sen back on the furs. “I’ll show you inexperienced,” he growled, his hands roughly pulling at J’sen’s shirt.

J’sen struggled. This time, though, he wasn’t trying to get away because Great Faranth, he didn’t even care who his partner was anymore, he just needed to get fucked and he wasn’t going to take the chance that J’red might back down again. This time, he was actively helping J’red, pulling his own shirt up over his head and yanking his pants down over his hips, kicking them off his legs. J’red was breathing harshly above him, the air whistling through his nose as he stripped off his own clothes and descended upon J’sen like a starving wolf.

J’red rocked his body against J’sen’s, rubbing them together and shoving J’sen into the bed as he nipped roughly at J’sen’s neck, leaving little pinpricks of pain ghosting along J’sen’s skin. J’sen groaned—he’d never minded a little pain with his pleasure—and arched upward into the hard friction of J’red’s ridiculously toned stomach. His hands clawed at J’red back, keeping him close, and his teeth sunk into J’red’s shoulder because now that they’d gotten this far, sheer instinct was taking over: instinct that was currently being ruled by a dragon.

J’red howled and bit back, marking J’sen as his hands did the same, leaving fingerprint bruises all along J’sen’s side. He brushed up against one of J’sen’s nipples and twisted it savagely making J’sen gasp and desperately buck upward, humping J’red’s stomach. Fuck, yes, J’sen thought, scratching his blunt nails over J’red’s skin, leaving red trails. He headed straight for J’red’s cock—fuck the foreplay: that was what the mating flight was all about.

As soon as he wrapped his hand around J’red’s thick length, though, desperate to shove it inside of himself, J’red shouted again, his hips thrusting mindlessly into J’sen’s hand, and then J’sen was being flipped over onto his belly and J’red was spreading his legs, stepping in between them. J’sen struggled to get his knees underneath of himself and to push himself back onto J’red’s fat cock, and J’red wrapped one arm around underneath J’sen and hauled him upward. “Shards, fuck, yes, J’sen…” he was growling. J’sen reached beneath himself and backward, fingertips brushing J’red dick again, trying to force it inside.

Thank the First Egg that he always prelubed himself for Carinth’s mating flights, dipped his fingers in slick oil and smeared it inside. J’red snarled and ripped J’sen’s hand away, pining it above his head as J’red shoved himself inside of J’sen’s body. “Oh, fuck!” J’sen gasped, feeling J’red starting to stretch him, roughly forcing in with no thought to any possible resistance. J’red was bigger than any other man he’d ever taken; J’sen felt certain that he was about to rip in two but he still wanted more. J’red’s teeth sunk into J’sen’s skin again, marking his shoulder this time as J’red alternated between biting down hard and licking at the abused spot. J’sen buried his face in the bed to try and muffle his screams because the feeling of J’red inside of him and above him was driving him mad. He felt as if he was about to break.

J’sen canted his hips, trying for the best possible angle, but it didn’t matter. J’red was going to fuck him no matter what angle he was at and J’sen had better damn well enjoy it. J’red’s cock was sinking in the entire way on each thrust—damn near deep enough that J’sen thought that he could taste it—and his balls smacked against J’sen’s each time, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure radiating up J’sen’s spine. Each backwards pull of J’red’s hips had J’sen feeling empty and frantic to have J’red back inside of him. More, more, more, he had to have more. He needed J’red to bury inside of him and never come out, not until J’red had given J’sen what he needed. J’sen’s entire world had been reduced to just the here and now—this room, this bed, this man.

J’red’s fingers were bruising J’sen’s wrist, his teeth savaging J’sen’s shoulder and his cock was stretching J’sen to the breaking point: J’sen had never felt so fantastic in his life. The only thing keeping him upward was J’red’s hand, digging into J’sen’s hip.

Pathetic, gaspy little moans where filling the room, harsh and needy, and J’sen couldn’t believe that they were coming from his own throat. They sounded too helpless to belong to him, too desperate, too wanton. They sounded like they were pleading but for what, J’sen wasn’t sure.

J’red drove into him rougher, harder, faster, each demanding slam of his hips, forcing another panting sob out of J’sen and he bit into the bed covers, trying to stifle his own moans. He was hard and leaking, making a mess out of everything, and feeling one touch away from coming, hovering on the edge of completion. He shoved his free hand underneath himself and wrapped his fingers around his cock, tugging on it, needing to get himself off.

J’red pulled this hand away, too, tossing it aside. “You need something, you get it from me,” he growled and his own hand was wrapping around J’sen’s dick, gripping it hard. J’sen couldn’t form a protest because he was too busy screaming into the covers and coming all over them, his ass clenching down around J’red’s dick buried inside of him.

He was still coming hard as J’red muttered gibberish and started pounding into him, fucking him into the bed. J’sen couldn’t keep himself braced and collapsed forward in a heap, still rubbing himself against the bed because he wasn’t done and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him. It didn’t stop J’red, either. J’red fucked him through his orgasm, finding another position and keeping at it until J’sen felt the warm splash of come inside of him, felt the spasming of J’red’s dick and the sharp bite of J’red muffling his screams of pleasure. J’sen was still coming, but dry, his balls seizing in sympathy.

J’red collapsed on top of him, still twitching from his orgasm. “By the Egg…” J’sen whispered, feeling too worn out to move or even to complain about J’red weight pinning him down. J’red was still hard inside of him, probably would be for awhile (mating flights did wonders for refractory periods), but they mutually called for a truce, too exhausted at the moment to do anything else.

J’sen knew when J’red came back to his senses because J’red’s weight shifted off of him, his body still touching but no longer pressing, and the soft, apologetic kisses and licks that J’red was laving on J’sen’s abused skin. It felt…rather nice. Comfortable. Loving. J’sen hummed, his mind not working well enough to form words that weren’t blasphemous oaths and J’red hummed back in response.

As far as communication went, it was effective enough.

Together, they lay there, still feeling the connection of their dragons’ mating ricocheting across their respective links. Amazingly enough, the dragons still had not touched the ground, big Peroth apparently determined to keep little Carinth and himself aloft for as long as possible. It wouldn’t be long before he’d forced to give it up but he was still holding on for all he was worth. Just like his Rider in more ways than one. J’sen chuckled, his body shaking underneath J’red’s.

“What?” J’red asked, a smile in his voice, wanting in on the joke. J’sen didn’t answer because he knew that he didn’t have to; J’red would get the message. He’d have to be a real deadglow not to. J’sen just leveraged himself upwards a little, pushing his ass more onto J’red’s cock and J’red moaned. He rocked forward, a shaky little, “oh,” rushing out of him.

J’sen rolled his hips, inviting J’red for another round and J’red answered by wrapping his long arms around J’sen’s body and starting to thrust again, his dick pushing through not just the oil this time, but his own come as well.

They might have to talk about this later—J’sen still hadn’t forgotten about the “training” slipup—but right now, they were exactly where they needed to be. Sometime, soon, too, he was going to turn around and push J’red down to ride him until he screamed, but this was still working just fine. J’sen shuddered as he felt the amplified lust fogging up his mind again.

He was going to be so sore in the morning.


Somewhere in a field out side of Jagwary Manor, two dragons landed, startling the herd of sheep who had been peacefully grazing and sending the shepherd looking for the dairy maid that he’d spotted earlier. A few hundred miles away, their riders were slowly starting to sort out issues and misunderstandings which had been years in the making. The dragons didn’t particularly understand nor did they care because humans could be so needlessly complicated and all they felt along the telepathic link was contentment, satedness and a glimmer of hope. These were all fine things to feel after a successful flight.

The humans would get over it. Peroth might have to pursue Carinth for a few more mating flights, but the humans would get over it.