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Estinien doesn’t have to tear his gaze from the ground to know that Gaius’ heavy stare is fixed on what sits between his legs.
“‘Twas…a gift from Nidhogg, I suppose,” murmurs Estinien, cheeks coloring. “If you could call it that. I understand if you wish not to proceed.”
“No.”
Gaius’ voice is deep at the best of times, but Estinien can hear the way it’s nearly guttural, torn from his throat breathy at the edges in just one simple word. Estinien lifts an eyebrow.
“No?”
Gaius gestures, and a matching blush has crawled up his own skin, settling on his cheeks faintly, light eyes made dark by his dilated pupils.
“No. I would – know how it works.”
“And pray tell, just what does that mean, Wolf?” Estinien scoffs. “‘Tis a cock – albeit, an unconventional one.”
‘Tis true enough, Estinien thinks to himself. A smattering of black and red scales sprinkle over his crotch where sparse white hairs used to sit, trickling down his thighs. Nothing pokes out from between his legs but the very tip of it, chitinous and ridged like the hide of the creature who left it there.
“May I?” asks Gaius, stepping closer, and when Estinien nods, he places a hand over it, circling his thumb over the scales the slightest bit. They’re hot, almost, certainly hotter than Estinien’s skin in the cold clime, and Gaius can see the head of Estinien’s cock poke itself out of the slit at the touch.
“I know the scales are…distasteful.” Estinien trails off, looking away. ‘Tis unlike him, and there is nothing to be ashamed of besides, so Gaius trails his hand lower, thumbing at his tip, rough beneath his hand.
“I’ve Auri children,” Gaius offers. “I’ve seen scales before.”
“But never on a cock before, I would wager.”
Gaius laughs. “No, this is something new. Not that I am opposed to it, not at all. Rather I am curious: what of the slit here?” He fits his fingers into the opening below the sheath, scaled as the skin around it, but soft and wet inside. “Is this a cunt, Wyrmblood?”
He expects a scoff, or perhaps a deflection, one of Estinien’s sudden and hard kisses. They had traded many of those, had rutted against each other behind the cold, metal structures of the factories they’ve infiltrated, had huddled for warmth inside their tent, waking up with erections pressed to each others’ thighs or backs or stomachs. But this was the first time that either of them had actually removed their trousers.
But instead of doing anything that Gaius might expect, Estinien takes his hand, pressing it further inside of him, leaning close.
“Going to fuck me, Wolf?” he asks. His voice is gravelly and heavy with arousal, breath hot against Gaius’ ear.
“Would you like that?”
“I daresay I would,” Estinien growls, and it’s all Gaius needs to back him toward the bedroll, laying him down in one fell swoop. Estinien’s hair fans out beneath him like a maiden posing for an erotic portrait, and he gives a rare coy smile like one too.
“Then stop being such a damned tease,” Gaius says, laying himself on top of Estinien, his own cock growing with interest, his balls heavy. “Were you afraid I wouldn’t like it?”
Estinien shrugs, but Gaius can see the way his pupils dilate at the question, at the way Gaius’ thumb still pulses at the slit beneath the cock, before they elongate into slits, scales appearing one by one over his nose like a wicked facsimile of freckles. “I wouldn’t presume to know your tastes, Baelsar.”
“Then I shall have to show you.”
Without warning, Gaius leans down to press his tongue to the opening underneath Estinien’s cock, using his thumbs to peel apart the scales there like a weaver splitting the weft. Estinien’s hand finds Gaius’ cock then, flailing a bit, and something sharp pricks at the shaft. It’s a claw, Gaius notes absently. Estinien’s fingers have elongated, nails stained black as if he has stirred them in soot. They pull at Gaius’ foreskin and press at the leaking pre from the head, using it to rub up and down the skin. Gaius shivers, shakes, and closes his hand over Estinien’s until he takes his own cock fully in hand, and moves Estinien’s back over his head.
“Has anyone ever tried this before?” Gaius asks, guiding his cock toward the slit before pressing the tip of it inside. Estinien jerks, and Gaius notes that scales that have begun to cover the rest of Estinien’s body in patches, that the veins skittering out of the craters of his forearm and shoulder seem to burn brighter, crimson like fresh blood spilled on the battlefield.
He doesn’t respond, only shakes his head, eyelids fluttering desperately.
“What other gifts do you think Nidhogg left you with?” Gaius asks, rolling his hips, the length of his cock rubbing against Estinien’s own as it slowly emerges. “Do you think there’s a womb to go with this cunt? Do you think I could breed you, Wyrmblood?”
Gaius can hear Estinien’s sharp inhale, a break in his continuous panting, slitted eyes blinking.
“You can certainly try.”
“I shall take you up on that challenge,” says Gaius, and wraps his hand around both their cocks. Estinien’s is nearly fully emerged at this point, longer than Gaius’ and hard where its shell pokes at his stomach. The tip of it flares outward, little bumps running over it as it splits into two heads, bulbous and strange, inhuman.
Gaius has taken and been had by many in his time, but this is the first time he has ever felt something so unique beneath his hand. The ridges drag over Gaius’ own cock as he rubs them together, fingers digging in to squeeze them as close as he can, breathing hard.
“I’m going to fuck your pussy,” he says – groans, really, the statement rolling into a high noise from his throat. “I’ll finish inside of you – breed you, fill you up with a litter – would you like that, Wyrmblood? A little dragonet like you –”
He cuts himself off at the noise that Estinien makes, then, a moan followed by little ah-ahs and pleases, the once Azure Dragoon becoming debased under his careful, practiced hand.
“I’m no swiving dragonet,” Estinien finds the strength to retort however, even while bucking his hips forward, greedily taking Gaius’ cock inside of him, reaching up a clawed hand, to press at Gaius’ chest, teasing at his hard nipples.
“No?” asks Gaius, keeping up his rhythm, pressing his chest to Estinien’s, teeth to his neck. “But you’re so small beneath me, and I’ve so much more experience in my long years, you’ve so much to learn.”
“About – ngh – what?” asks Estinien, legs coming around over Gaius’ back, hooking together at the ankles as he squeezes around Gaius’ cock.
“About how to be bred,” Gaius says, and without warning, flips Estinien to his front, pressing his strong, dragoon’s thighs apart, pushing him onto his knees. His cock slides back in easily, pre leaking from Estinien and himself, the slit gaping, asking for more.
Estinien’s hair hangs over his face like a curtain as his neck droops, his breathing heavy, blocking what Gaius is sure are reddened cheeks from view. He thrusts in further, a hand over Estinien’s shoulder, scales sharp against his palm.
“You’ll squeeze around me, drinking it all in, ass to the air so that it will take,” Gaius tells him – commands, really, the voice of the famed legatus replacing the growl that he has carried in the bedroom. He sounds eerily quiet – the only betrayal of the fact that he is about to finish, the calm before the storm.
“Fury,” Estinien breathes out. “Y – yes, Gaius, do not be shy, give it to me –”
It’s all Gaius needs to pick up his rhythm, his other hand fit around Estinien’s firm buttock, the only sound in the tent of skin on skin, and slowly another sensation overtakes Gaius, a friction, a rubbing at the bottom of his shaft, making him grow all the harder.
“Estinien –”
Estinien grunts, pushing his hips backward.
“‘Tis – the other one.”
“The other one?”
“The other swiving cock,” he answers, and Gaius’ vision grows dim with the enormity of his arousal. His hand comes around, touching the tip of Estinien’s second cock – hard and chitinous, just like the primary one – and suddenly he is spilling. He’s spilling, heat rushing through his veins like a rampaging dragonfire, filling Estinien’s cunt, his hips moving faster than Gaius would have thought possible.
“I’m going to fuck a baby into you,” Gaius says, riding out his orgasm as Estinien lets out noises of pleasure, nearly inhuman. “Going to make you round with my child – my litter –”
“Yes, Fury – fuck me, Wolf, fill me up –”
And then Estinien’s orgasm is chasing his own, Gaius can feel the splatter of seed dripping over his hand as each of Estinien’s cocks release, the liquid thin and sour, but sickeningly sweet in the small confines of the tent. And then it is over, Estinien slumping to the floor, spent, and Gaius follows, pulling his back against his chest.
“By the Twelve,” Estinien breathes, shaking his head, hair tickling at Gaius’ nose. He smells of sweat and dirt and cum, but Gaius breathes it in deeply, still half-hard. Estinien is too, if the press against Gaius’ creeping hand is any indication. “Never – never, er – finished quite like that before.”
“No?” asks Gaius, arching an eyebrow although Estinien cannot see him.
“Mm,” Estinien, grunts. “Don’t get cocky, Baelsar.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” says Gaius, smiling into Estinien’s shoulder blades. The scales rub at his cheek, and his cock twitches again. “But perhaps, another round later? If the great Azure Dragoon has the stamina, that is.”
“Former Azure Dragoon,” Estinien corrects quickly. “Is that a challenge?”
“If you want it to be,” Gaius answers, voice carefully even, and Estinien rewards him with a rare laugh.
“Well,” he says, covering Gaius’ hand with his own, guiding it toward the opening between his cocks. “Who am I to resist that?”