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Sting would like to say he was smart enough in his own ways. Maybe he wasn’t as intellectual as Rogue or Minerva, or as poetically-inclined as Rufus, and maybe he disliked books with a passion, but that didn’t mean Sting was stupid. He was perceptive enough to see the changes in his guildmates’ attitudes or even the hitches of breath when something pleased or irked them. Took easy notice of a change in body language or a shift in someone’s tone of voice. This was something Sting was quite proud of, something naturally enhanced by his dragonslayer abilities–and honestly, who was he to complain.
Or, at least that’s what Sting originally thought.
After the events from last time, days and nights quickly grew between the twin dragonslayers. The air was still thick, tension palpable and intoxicatingly suffocating, but Sting also noted the rapid ways in which Rogue would go out of his way to avoid him.
Now that is something that bothered the lax blonde.
The white dragonslayer had hoped that things wouldn’t change for the worse, as it was something they had attempted to promise to one another right before passing the boundary line, but it seems like Rogue had other ideas.
Shadowy, black hair and red eyes would vanish as soon as Sting entered the scene, the shadow dragonslayer almost immediately beelining as far away from Sting as possible. At the job request board, in the dining hall, hell–Rogue even disappeared if Sting happened to enter the communal bathroom while the shadow dragon was inside.
It was driving Sting insane, his insides flaring with the desire to just hold Rogue down and demand that those red eyes lock onto his own blue ones, bodies finally forced to confront one another again.
Despite all this, even with Rogue’s odd attempts at evading Sting, the blonde still noted the hitched breath that got caught in his friend’s throat. The way a light flush would coat his cheeks, the increased heartbeat and blood supply that raced through his veins–and mostly definitely traveled painfully downwards.
Sting noticed it all; the filthy heat that rolled off like waves from Rogue whenever the shadow caught sight of him. Body sweltering with a lusty haze.
At first, Sting really thought he had been dreaming or misunderstanding Rogue’s behavior. That maybe his senses were dulled or biased because it had to deal with Rogue–his Rogue, Sting would like to add–but as time went on, it became painfully clear to Sting that he was not imagining things. Not only was his friend hellbent on never seeing him again; Rogue made this suspiciously obvious as he avoided all contact with the blonde–but it soon became obvious just why Rogue was ignoring him.
The shadow dragonslayer, his best friend in more ways than one, could not keep his own dick down at the sight of Sting.
This, of course, stroked Sting’s ego like nothing else.
He could get fucking high off the idea alone that Rogue popped a hard one whenever he got close to him, desire overwhelming his veins at the thoughts of a needy and very, very hot Rogue underneath him, begging for Sting to touch him.
Truly, Sting wanted nothing more than to bury himself fully inside Rogue, cock pushed so deep inside the shadow dragon that all Rogue would be able to do is mewl and beg for Sting to fuck him relentlessly until his insides only remembered the shape of his dick.
But of course, if there was a god or deity of any kind, they took no pity on Sting’s newest dilemma. Instead, the gods must be mocking the blonde–at least that’s what he decided–since his friend truly was hellbent on not talking to him.
That was all ending today, Sting decided, heart and head focused on just one thing: Rogue.
The next morning arrived quickly, Sting already slipping his body out of his bed. Normally the dragonslayer would never be up this early, but if it meant confronting the shadow dragon head on, Sting would ruin his sleep schedule for Rogue as many times as it took.
A tight top and loose sweatpants that rested around his hips rested comfortably on his body as he leisurely headed towards the bathhouse; the pure scent of Rogue leading Sting down a path the blonde had already decided to take.
Enhanced dragonslayer instincts or not, Sting always had a way of knowing where his counterpart was.
“He’s not getting away from me today,” the blonde huffs as he digs his hands into sweatpant pockets, body relaxed as he walks. “No more slipping away in the shadows. Not today.”
Sting’s declaration fell on deaf ears, but it only served to push the blonde further. Excitement quickly filled his steps, fear and nervous energy being shoved away in the quiet space of Sting’s brain.
He didn’t need fear holding him back, not when his relationship with Rogue was on the line.
‘I just need him to look at me.’ He reasoned quietly with himself as he neared the door, the sound of water running a gentle reminder that a certain someone was indeed inside the room. ‘If it’s like this, I know Rogue won’t be able to avoid me.’
The blonde steadied himself, hand bracing the door lightly as he swallowed down a lump that appeared in his throat. Without wasting another second, Sting slowly pushed the door open, body slipping inside the steam-filled room and closing the door behind him before the other could notice his presence.
Sting stood frozen for a moment as he sniffed the air, nose twitching slightly as it took in the scents of the bathhouse. Herby notes from the specially mixed hotspring waters were potent, the concoction a special order for his guild that helped restore and enhance magic consumption, and the lingering dull scent of spiced cinnamon dancing on the backside–Rogue’s preferred bodywash, a scent that Sting knew well.
He held back the desire to hum as he sauntered over to the locker room, stripping quickly from the sweats and top as he wrapped a towel haphazardly around his waist; purposefully positioning it so the sweet line of his muscles and hips led below the band, no doubt an enticing sight for the shadow dragon.
Hand lightly holding the loose knot in place, Sting wandered back out, feet guiding him to the gentle hum of Rogue’s deep voice as the mentioned man emerged himself deeper in the spring, arms pulled tight above his head as he groaned out a guttural noise as he stretched idly.
The sight before him leaves Sting stunned, all previous determination being swallowed up by the inky, black desire that was Rogue; and instead, twisted into a heavy tent that grew quickly beneath Sting’s own towel. In all of Rogue’s beauty–sharp body lines and lean muscles, silky hair and messily tied up strands, and the prominent look of not just his scars, but the leftover hickeys that Sting had so graciously littered over the other’s body. All of the shadows, lines and shapes filled Sting’s head, all his senses zeroed in on just one thing–Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.
It made Sting obnoxiously hard in a matter of seconds.
The blonde peaked down his own body, eyes focused on the throbbing erection that was barely hidden by the towel. It took all the strength Sting had inside of him to not stroke his hand over his hardened length, desire for Rogue to touch him outweighed any immediate relief.
This was not how he had planned for things to go.
Sting sighed as he waltzed further in, trying to force his own thoughts back down. The sound must have been louder than he anticipated because just as Sting neared the edge of the hotspring, Rogue’s head snapped sideways, eyes sharp and clouded.
“Why are you up so early?” Rogue’s voice was velvety smooth, a deep rasp bitten on the back end of his throat–the sound of it intoxicating to Sting’s apparently very sensitive ears. He even caught the slight choke as Rogue spoke, as if the latter hadn’t spoken once today.
“Uh–just wanted a morning dip?” The words flew out of his mouth before Sting could come up with something more convincing.
He’d smack himself upside the head if he could.
Rogue eyed Sting for what felt like a millennium, hazed eyes observing every shift and fidget of Sting’s body. It didn’t take long for him to notice the way the white dragon attempted to shield his crotch from his peering gaze. The dragonslayer couldn’t help the harsh swallow as he eyed the tent that Sting failed to hide, erection twitching so delightfully underneath the miniscule cover.
The shadow dragon swallowed harshly, thoughts of the blonde’s cock overwhelming all his senses. He wanted more than anything to swallow that cock whole, length hitting the back of his throat, tongue lazily rolling over his sensitive head as Rogue forces Sting to cum hot and hard down his throat.
Rogue salivated at the thought–his own cock coming to life beneath the hidden comfort of the water–desire to suck Sting’s cock down quickly becoming the shadow dragon’s only thought.
“Then don’t stand there like an idiot,” Rogue grunts out, body sinking further into the water, body shifting to keep his own arousal from showing. “Come on in–you’re making things awkward the longer you’re out there.”
“Me? Making things awkward?” Sting dramatizes the words as he dips into the water, towel still loosely wrapped around his hips. “I don’t have an awkward bone in my body, thank you very much.”
“Su-ure,” Rogue draws out as he settles into the smooth stone of the hotspring, space between them larger than Sting wanted. “You’re always the charismatic leader.”
The blonde slides onto the bench that’s built into the lining of the spring, arms stretched across the lip of the oversized tub as he takes in Rogue’s distant form.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs lightly as he gazes at Rogue, blue eyes unwilling to look away even as the shadow averts his sight.
“Nothing in particular.” Rogue retorts, eyes focused on the wave that breezed across the surface, water lapping gently against their toned bodies. “Just making an observation.”
“Hmm, are you now?” Sting’s voice dips as his eyes rake over Rogue’s submerged body. Even though he couldn’t see the other’s excitement, he knew it was there. “What other observations would you like to share?”
Rogue stares at him, eyes narrow as if suspicious of Sting’s intentions–which of course, maybe the shadow dragon should be; Sting did have slightly ulterior motives after all.
“Well for one,” Rogue starts, red eyes darting back to the large expanse of water surrounding them. “You’re up way too early.”
“Yes, yes–we talked about this already.” The blonde waves off the first note like it was a frivolous matter. “What else have you noticed?” Sting slides further down the bench, carefully lessening the distance between him and Rogue.
If Rogue noticed, he didn’t say anything; just lazily watched as a small wave crashed against Sting’s bare chest.
“You look tired,” Rogue notates, slit eyes scanning over the blonde’s face. After all this time, Rogue hadn’t even noticed how exhausted Sting looked–a light wave of guilt washed over that dark haired man. “Lots of paperwork again?”
Sting hums, hands playing with a loose piece of stone by the hotspring. The blonde sighed softly, blue gaze shifting into an emotion that Rogue couldn’t quite identify.
“Possibly. Orga and the team made a real mess on their last job.” Sting recalled the massive stack of paperwork that still sat on his desk–only halfway complete–and groaned loudly. He slipped further into the water until just his face was resting above the warm waves. Blue eyes closed as he took in the feel of the spring; hot, medicinal water wrapped around him, as if sensing his need to relax, and almost instantly Sting felt a muscle loosen–one’s that has been kinked for three days now.
He lets out an appreciative sigh, rolling his shoulders as he shifts lightly under the waves.
“I heard about it,” Rogue mumbled, eyes darting towards the towel wrapped around his own hips. His length ached, the sight of a relaxed and very wet Sting next to him proved to be a painfully distracting view. “I’ve also noticed you’ve been wandering out of your office a lot lately.”
“You have?” Sting questioned, head turning to take in the view of a pink-cheeked Rogue. The blonde felt a low rumble threatening to emerge from his chest, the desperate look that coated the shadow dragonslayer’s face too good to not notice. Sting mildly wondered if Rogue even realized just how good he looked right now.
“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d actually notice,” Sting continued, blue eyes glued to the fountain on the other side of the bath–made after their sabertooth name–gaze following the water that shot out of the tiger statue’s mouth. “You’ve been avoiding me like I have the plague, asshole.”
“Wha–” Rogue starts, but is quickly cut off.
“You can’t deny it, Rogue.” Sting turns again, his body following his movement, and scoots in closer to the other dragonslayer. The space between them was barely there; only towels, water, and held breaths separated them.
“I’d like to make some observations of my own.” Sting laid a single hand on Rogue’s arm, fingers gently tapping against the tense muscle of his biceps. “If I may?”
Rogue blinks slowly, face unreadable by Sting. That didn’t matter to the blonde, however, because he could smell and hear the change in Rogue’s body. The increased heart rate, the hitched breath, and the sweet smell of excitement.
Oh no, Sting knew everything already.
“Um, sure?” Uncertainty lined Rogue’s voice, velvet raspy as he swallowed harshly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, barely stifling a moan as he brushed against his boner.
“One, I know you’ve started opting for morning baths to avoid all the stares and questions.” Sting stated plainly, fingers tightening slightly around Rogue’s arm. He trailed his index finger up the length until he reached Rogue’s collarbone, the pad of Sting’s finger lightly tracing the fading hickey. “You didn’t want anyone to see my marks, huh?”
“Of course not,” Rogue retorted, unable to hide the shiver that ran down his body as a particularly delicate finger ran up his neck. “People are too nosey.”
Sting hums in response, his other hand coming out from under the water to splash a small wave towards his counterpart. He shifts again, knee propping up his one arm as he continues drawing lazy figures on Rogue’s chest. The blonde was fully aware of his position–legs spread wide enough that Rogue would undoubtedly be able to see his own arousal throbbing helplessly underneath his towel–and he smirked at his friend’s wandering gaze.
“Two,” Sting’s hand wraps around his towel, loosening its constraints until he’s just barely holding it over his length. “As much as someone’s been avoiding me, it seems like you’re still pretty interested.”
“I told you, I’m not avoiding you.” Rogue hisses out quickly, cheeks flushed and littered with pink and red. The shadow averts his gaze again, arms crossing over his chest as he turns away from the blonde.
“Su-ure,” Sting leans in closer again, not allowing the shadow to fully escape. The blonde swiftly moves, not allowing Rogue a moment to consider what was about to happen, and cages the shadow in between his arms, hands now gripping the edge of the pool. “I thought you didn’t like liars, Rogue.” Sting growls out the other’s name, instincts slowly getting the best of him.
Rogue gulps from where he sits, quietly begging his body to not react to the blonde before him. Of course, much to Rogue’s dismay, his body reacts with extreme rigor. The shadow whimpers lightly under his breath, chest heaving as Sting leans in closer until they are just inches apart. He knew for a fact Sting heard him, the shit-eating grin plastered over his face was answer enough.
“I don’t like liars, you’re right.” Rogue shudders as he speaks, red eyes darting from Sting’s lips to his eyes and back to his lips again.
“Then,” Sting whispers softly, knee nudging Rogue’s to spread his legs open–the other responds without any delay. “Why don’t you be honest with me now?” Sting presses his knee against Rogue’s towel, edging the hidden hard-on Rogue was sporting.
Rogue exhales, breath hot against Sting’s face. They stared at each other for what felt like forever, the space between them heating up with each passing second.
Then, without Sting realizing, the shadow dragon was setting his hands on the blonde’s waist, fingers digging into his smooth skin. He pulls the blonde closer–somehow, Sting wasn’t sure how much closer they could get before their lips connect, not that he’d mind anyways–their hips almost brushing together.
It was as if the two were playing a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and if Sting were being honest, he’d let Rogue win if it’d speed things along.
“I don’t know if you want me to be honest–if I do, I’m not sure things can ever go back to the way they were.” Rogue’s voice is quiet, so soft that Sting was certain he wasn’t meant to hear the others' words.
“Who said I wanted things to go back to ‘normal’?” Sting mimics air quotes without removing his hands from the edge of the bath, eyes unwavering as he meets Rogue’s red, hazed stare.
The moment builds between them both as Rogue seems to ruminate over Sting’s proclamation. He can feel the blood pounding in his head, can feel his dick throb in beat with his heart as his body aches for the space between them to disappear. Rogue wanted Sting badly, and he knew the blonde wanted him, too.
Neither moved for a second, just allowed the tension to build between them until it was palpable, intoxicatingly suffocating.
“The last thing I noticed,” Sting’s voice dips down further, words laced with his own raspy growl as he lets go of the stone. He traces his hands down Rogue’s arms–shivers and gasps pure music to the white dragon’s ears–until they land on Rogue’s towel. “Do you want to know?”
Fingers dig harder into Sting’s hips, and he hisses out a low groan at the feeling of Rogue’s nails scrapping against his skin.
“I might want to know,” Rogue suddenly challenges Sting, expression haughty and bright, a deep smirk placed over his face.
“Unless you’re too scared.”
Rogue knew this was a pathetic challenge, but regardless, he knew Sting would fall for it anyways.
And fall he did.
A hot hand presses firmly against Rogue’s towel, wet cloth fully encompassing his length as Sting wraps his hand around Rogue’s aching cock. A heavy sigh leaves his lips, head immediately thrown back as the blonde rubs the length absently.
Lips fall open, a desperate moan rolling off Rogue’s tongue. He squirms lightly in Sting’s hold, hips attempting to grind into his hand as Sting holds him in place.
Sting smirks at the sight, mind and brain delirious at the sight of a needy–desperately, fucking needy–Rogue beneath him. The blonde quickly learned after the last time he loved the faces and expressions Rogue made, especially since the other was normally so stoic and cold.
It made him want to see more, hear more, feel more.
“I’ve been noticing for a while now,” Sting blows hotly against Rogue’s ear, tongue darting out to lick against the outer shell before nibbling on his lobe, teeth pulling gently at the skin. “That someone’s been getting excited,” he squeezes his hand harder around Rogue’s length as he speaks, emphasizing the hardened cock in his grasp. “Everytime he sees me.”
“F-fuck, Sting.” Rogue moans out the blonde’s name, the sound intoxicating. Sting felt a rumble in his chest, a low growl emerging as his lips trailed hot kisses down the right side of Rogue’s neck until he nestled into the crook. He scaled his sharpened canines against the soft skin, teasing the sensitive area as he lazily stroked the shadow dragon.
“Fuck what?” Sting feigns innocence, striking blue eyes captivated by the breathless shadow beside him. Even with just teasing strokes, Rogue looked like he was mere moments away from coming undone.
“Asshole–!” Rogue hissed out, breath catching in his throat as Sting bit softly into the skin. The blonde sucked harshly, canines lightly sinking into Rogue’s skin, and his tongue working diligently to lap up the small traces of blood. Rogue moans loudly at the ministrations, eyes rolling back as his fellow dragonslayer sucked a dark bruise into the crook of his neck.
“I’m no asshole,” Sting murmured into Rogue’s ear, all before dragging the underside of his tongue around the shadow dragon’s jawline until his mouth settled just above Rogue’s. “If I was one, I certainly wouldn’t be doing this,” Sting teases his thumb around Rogue’s head, thumb ghosting over his slit. “Now, would I?”
Rogue shuddered under the touch, another moan loudly echoing in the space between them. He peers up at Sting with hooded eyes, red glazed over with a darkness that the blonde longed to see.
“You–you’re right,” Rogue groaned out between moans, hips battling to stay still as Sting finally slipped the towel off, hand working quickly up and down Rogue’s hot length. “I have been av-avoiding you.”
Sting hums in response, hand picking up speed as he jerks off Rogue’s cock.
“Everytime I’ve seen you–” a loud moan rumbles from deep within his chest, red eyes shutting tight as his hips grind into Sting’s hand, silently begging the blonde to go faster. “I get like this.” One eye warily opens, red clouded with lust. “I get so fucking hard everytime I see you now, it’s embarrassing.”
“So, that’s why.” Sting whispers triumphantly, a victorious smirk plastered onto his. He leans into the other further, chests and hips colliding as he straddles the shadow dragon beneath him. His hand slips from Rogue’s needy cock to lock around the back of his neck, a handful of hair settling into his grasp while his other hand rests on Rogue’s left shoulder.
Water splashes around them as Sting moves, hips moving of his own accord, and he grinds down hard onto Rogue. Towels long lost, bare, wet cocks grind into each other, movements desperate and laced with want.
“I can’t believe that’s why you’ve been avoiding me,” Sting growls into the Rogue’s ear, hand tightening around the silky, black locks in his hand. He tugs gently, he truly didn’t want to hurt the other, and relished in the sweet moan that Rogue let out. “And you had the nerve to call me the asshole.”
His laugh is guttural, inklings of draconic desire wrapping around every noise and movement that Sting made. He wanted to devour Rogue, make the shadow dragon his and only his.
“You never came looking for me.” The shadow dragon retorts, eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to hold his ground. Rogue refused to come undone like this, not with the cocky guild master looking so fucking delicious above him.
“It's hard to look for someone who doesn’t want to be seen.” Sting growls back, hips snapping down just as quickly onto Rogue once again–both moan in tune with the movement. “I’ve been trying for days, Rogue. Fucking days.”
Blue eyes held red in a dangerous contest, the air around them crackling with the intensity of lust that radiated off the two dragons.
Even with this, Sting didn’t stop. He wrapped his left hand around both their lengths, hand working up and down their cocks in rhythm with their hips.
The feeling of their cocks pressed together, being fed selfishly by Sting’s strong hand, had Rogue moaning loudly, mouth open as his eyes rolled back. Sting eyed him for a moment before springing into action. Desperate lips crashed onto open ones, lips immediately melting together as Sting worked their cocks with his hand.
Movements were fast and deliberate, water moving faster and haphazardly around them as Sting ground down harder against Rogue, both men moaning helpless into their fiery, hot kiss.
Rogue’s tongue slipped out, licking alongside Sting’s bottom lip, and quickly twirled around the other’s tongue once Sting opened his mouth just the slightest. The kiss was hungry–sloppy and wet as their tongues curled around eachother–every movement and action spurred on by the deep lust that enveloped the two dragonslayers.
Sting swore he’d never tire of kissing Rogue–the shadow dragon always seemed to light a flame within his body whenever they touched. Veins burned with the essence of Rogue; the white magic in his body welcoming the darkness of Rogue’s shadows.
“I want you so badly, Sting–” Rogue was breathless as he spoke, hair disheveled from all of Sting’s desperate hand grabs, face and cheeks flushed with heat and desire. He groans loudly as Sting moves his hand faster against their cocks, movements pushing them both towards the edge. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop since that day.”
Sting dove back in for a kiss, lips immediately merging together again before pulling back, a thick line of spit connecting the two together. The blonde smiles, coy yet full of excitement, and drags his right hand down to the nape of Rogue’s neck. His fingers play with the dark strands; silky, black hair falling between his digits as he gazes deeply into his friend’s eyes. Even as Sting edges them both closer to release, the air between them hums with intimate understanding–they both needed more.
“I want you, too.” Sting whispers against Rogue’s lips, blue eyes not once darting away from the red eyes. He leans forward until his head rests against Rogue’s, blonde and black locks brushing together as they both pause for a moment, heartbeats erratic in both dragons’ chests.
“I want you so fucking badly,” Sting whispers, voice low with need. Rogue shifts underneath him, hips pumping up into Sting’s hand as he moves.
They both let out a hot, heavy exhale.
“Then fuck me already–mnf!” Rogue’s words are cut off by Sting’s tongue once again, mind barely comprehending the fact a sneaky hand is snaking between his legs and towards his round ass.
He gasps into Sting’s mouth, head rolling back as he feels a finger probing at his hole, the twitching entrance immediately ushering Sting’s finger in.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard–” Sting moans, voice less steady as he fucks a finger into Rogue. “This time you’ll be screaming my name, and everyone in the guild is gonna know just how fucking good you sound.” Sting twists his finger, movements more sure and confident compared to last time–only growing more sure and relentless as he brushes against Rogue’s prostate–the shadow dragon’s lewd call of his name spurring Sting on.
“But, I don’t wanna fuck you in the hotspring,” Sting slips his finger back just enough to add a second finger, and slowly pushes the two back inside Rogue.
The shadow dragonslayer moans loudly, body pliant in Sting’s hands. He grinds his hips down against Sting’s fingers, mind unable to stop the lust from taking over his body’s control.
Sting thrusts his fingers faster, purposefully hitting Rogue’s sweet spot with every deep thrust, and water from the spring splashes violently around them as Sting works his other hand back around Rogue’s cock, hand tighters as he focuses on just pleasing the man before him. He moves both hands in rhythm, left hand jerking down with every upwards thrust of his fingers.
Loud moans of pleasure fill the air, Rogue’s voice shamelessly rolling out curses and swears, moans and other lewdness increasing with Sting’s movements.
“I thought–oh, fuck Sting! Right there–you didn’t want to fu-fuck me in here?” Rogue moans in between words, voice breathless and needy as he rolled his hips down and up, mind overwhelmed with pleasure as his dick and ass got worked at the same time.
“I don’t,” Sting groans, arms moving faster when he feels Rogue’s hips start to shudder. “But I want you to cum first,” he snaps his hand down Rogue’s length, twisting his fist as he jerks his hand back up. “Wanna see your eyes roll back because you feel so good.”
Before Rogue can let out an answer, Sting thrusts his fingers deep inside the shadow dragon just as his hand curls around the sensitive head of his length, thumb pressing against his slit. Rogue’s hips shake, a growl ripping out from his chest as he comes harshly undone.
White shatters behind Rogue’s eyes, mouth falling open as a loud moan vibrates the air around them. Thick streaks of white shoot out from his cock, length twitching as he came over his own chest.
“See? You just look so good, Rogue.” Sting moans out as he slips his fingers out of the other dragonslayer’s ass, both hands immediately moving to cup Rogue’s cheeks. “I wanna see you on my bed,” Sting’s words are but a whisper as he massages the round flesh in his hands, his own cock twitching with need against Rogue’s slowly-growing one. “Need to see you cum with my dick so far up your ass–wanna hear you moan loudly as I paint your insides white.”
Sting grinds down against Rogue as he grabs at his ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. It made Sting delirious, mind overtaken by the need to take Rogue.
All his senses screamed Rogue. Every thought and feeling, every fiber and nerve of his very being rotated around his shadowy sun: Rogue, his fellow dragonslayer and best friend.
Without thinking, strength arising from carnal desire and draconic need, Sting manages to lift Rogue up out of the water, gently setting the shadow dragon onto the stoney, cold surface. He takes in the sight before him, relishing in the Rogue that sat just inches in front of him.
The man was beyond a beauty to Sting, his own words unable to capture the sheer intoxication the dragonslayer held.
However, if Sting were a poet, he’d talk about how the water glistened on his skin; how the droplets begged for eyes to watch in awe as it traveled down his lean body. Sting would write volumes about the gorgeous, silky hair and how it feels in his hand, how the shadow dragon feels and looks as blunt nails leave soft pink lines against his pale skin. He’d write comparisons between the sound of birds and wind chimes and the most beautiful orchestra and compare it to the low rumbles and breathy moans that sung out of Rogue’s chest.
Yet, Sting was no poet, and his words are nowhere near that articulate–but the dragonslayer doesn’t lack heart.
“I need you, Rogue–need you now!” The low growl that rips from Sting’s chest breaks both men from their lust-filled stupor, bodies suddenly scrambling to a locker room to beeline to Sting’s room.
Thankfully, the guild master’s room was far from the rest of the guild, secluded and unlikely to be heard by nosey mates or wandering bodies. Just two dragonslayers and their hearts and souls to bear.
The door to Sting’s room ripped open, hinges somehow holding it intact. Sting and Rogue sloppily burst through the door, the latter held up by Sting as he wraps his legs around the other’s waist, mouths preoccupied with each other’s tongue.
Sting’s tongue slides around Rogue’s, wet muscle tracing the inside of the shadow dragon’s mouth as he haphazardly shuts the door with Rogue’s body.
Hips grind together as Sting forces his weight onto Rogue, body held perfectly captive between the door and the horny blonde.
“S-Sting–” Rogue’s words were breathless, head moving to the side to catch some air.
The blonde moves even faster, mouth latching onto Rogue’s neck, mouth sucking hickeys into the pale skin around his neck and chest. His tongue laps around his bite mark from earlier, cock twitching in rhythm with his slow, sensual movements.
Desire to mark Rogue–to litter his body with hickeys, bruises, and bite marks–was overwhelming. Sting lays his tongue flat as he licks a fat strip to the other side of Rogue’s neck, nose nudging against another sweet spot.
He breathed heavily into Rogue, sighing into the skin as he felt the shadow dragon take a handful of blonde hair in his hand, heart shuddering from the gentle touch as the other urged him along.
Sting licked softly against the left side of Rogue’s neck, mouth trailing up until he was just below his ear. His breath was hot against Rogue’s ear, and Sting could feel the shiver that reverberated through his body as he bit down softly, teeth nibbling and massaging the skin as he sucked harshly.
“Oh, shit–Sting, please-!” Rogue moaned loudly, head thrown back further as he mindlessly ground his hips down against Sting’s–cocks aching between them, precum threatening to drip from both their heads. “I need you Sting–oh, fuck, yes–” his words are cut off again as Sting moves down Rogue’s neck, mouth biting into the soft skin by his shoulder.
In a lust-filled daze, Sting drags himself and Rogue to the bed, plopping the shadow dragon onto the soft surface.
Rogue watches in his own daze, eyes transfixed on the hot, horny mess of his best friend. The blonde’s cock was red, throbbing with need and still glistening wet from the water. His muscles and body lines are more prominent in the shadows of the dimly lit room, the line leading to his length extremely enticing, begging Rogue’s eyes to follow the v-shape down to Sting’s crotch.
He licked his lips absently, slowly adjusting his body until there was enough space for both of them on the bed.
Honestly though, Rogue didn’t care if there was enough space–he’d spread himself open for Sting to take him regardless of where they were.
“You look so good,” Rogue starts, eyes hazed. His body moves without any protest from his mind. He trails his own hand down his body, knees propping up and open as he snakes his hand down to his cock, pumping the fully hard length again as he teases the standing blonde. “But you’d look so much better fully embedded inside of me.”
As he says this, Rogue takes two fingers and spreads his precum over them, slowly bringing them down to his pulsating entrance.
Sting stands frozen at the foot of the bed, one knee on the soft mattress and other rooted to the floor. His eyes stay glued on Rogue’s ministrations, mind and body put under a spell as he watches Rogue fuck himself open again.
Rogue hooks one hand under his left knee, pulling it closer to his chest as he spreads his fingers, hips buckling as he brushes lightly against his own prostate.
He moans loudly, breath heavy and carefree as he whines for Sting, all self-consciousness thrown out the door the moment Sting had kissed him earlier. Rogue eyes the blonde, thirst and desire overwhelming his senses, and devours him with just a mere look as he thrusts his fingers into himself over and over again.
His pace is fast, fingers selfishly working himself open as he imagines Sting’s cock inside of him–although the shadow dragon knows his fingers do Sting’s length little justice.
Before Rogue can even blink, fingers just a second away from ramming into his prostate, Sting is holding his wrist in place. The look in his eyes is wild, bright blue suddenly darker and shrouded with clouds of need.
Sting growls, a low rumble building from his chest as he glares at the shadow dragon, the sound a warning for Rogue to not continue.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you senseless?” He hisses out, hand–opposite to his language–gently pulling Rogue’s fingers out. “But you look so fucking happy to be playing with your hole yourself,” Sting postions himself against Rogue, the fronts of his thighs holding up the back of Rogue’s as he leans forward, the shadow dragon’s knees held up by his shoulders.
A wide smirk paints his face as a thought flashes past Sting’s mind, eyes devious as he licks his lip.
“I think I might just watch you instead–” Sting leans back, resting on his knees and toes as he takes in Rogue’s exasperated look.
“Wa-wait, what? You fucking jerk,” Rogue all but cries out, hips desperately attempting to move against something, against anything, so he could allievate the pressure in his balls. “I need more than just my fingers!”
Sting snickers, signature toothy grin coming out.
“Then say it–” Sting leans over once more, careful to not give Rogue any leverage as he quickly snatches his wrists, one hand forcing them above his head. He blows a teasing breath against Rogue’s ear, tongue licking a teasing strip against the sensitive skin. “Tell me what you want.”
Rogue moans–no, more like whines–at the white dragon’s demand. The shadow dragonslayer didn't want to give in, but the lust that swam through his veins demanded for it.
“Sting, please.” Rogue looked up at Sting, red eyes sincere and glossy; it was a look Sting’s never seen before. He felt his heart murmur in his chest–a beat, a feeling, racketing against his ribs.
The blonde leans closer, faces just inches apart as Sting takes in all the words, glances, and breathy sighs as Rogue attempts to speak.
“I want–no, I need–your cock inside me, please–” Rogue shifts his hips upwards, forcefully grinding against Sting’s hardened erection. They both moan in sync, bodies shaking as they both barely hold themselves back. “I need you to fuck me until I can’t see straight anymore,” he grinds up again, rotating his hips just a bit to force their cocks even closer together. “Need my body to be yours today–I need you to fuck me, Sting.”
The exclamation was all Sting needed, body rushing into action with tremendous speed that he nearly gave himself whiplash.
Lips crashed together, Sting’s hands immediately exploring the shadow dragon’s body without any remorse. Hands trailed down his chest, brushed over and twisted sensitive nipples–Sting decided he’d need to explore that even further some other day, Rogue’s moans even breathier at the contact–and down shaking thighs.
His hands felt like fire to Rogue, Sting’s white-hot touch blazing a lusty fire in its wake as deliberate fingers caressed his body.
“S-Sting–!” He moans helplessly, back arching at the feeling of something big pressing against his entrance. Excitement shook through Rogue, cock throbbing with desire as he felt Sting lazily grind against his hole.
“Wait–Sting, wait,” the blonde looks down at him, eyes ravenous, but still willing to listen. “Mouth first.”
“You want me…?” Sting arches a brow, eyes darting from his length to Rogue’s mouth.
“Needa make it wet–” Rogue opens his mouth, tongue falling out shamelessly as he repositions himself until Sting’s cock is just centimeters away from his face.
The blonde just about loses it, the lewd words falling from his friend’s mouth absolutely wrecking havoc on his mind. Certainly, no one at the guild would ever be able to imagine Rogue having such a dirty mouth.
“F-fine,” Sting grunts out as Rogue hurriedly envelopes Sting’s length, tongue greedily licking around his head before slowly swallowing down Sting’s length–savoring every inch that went past his lips. “But don’t make me cum–fuck, Rogue!” He grips at black hair as his eyes roll back, hips involuntarily bucking into Rogue’s welcoming mouth.
Rogue pulls back lightly, tongue trailing up the vein on the bottom side of Sting’s length until he reaches the top, sucking harshly around the blonde’s head. His red eyes never once leave Sting’s blue ones.
“I won’t.” The shadow dragon mumbles around Sting’s head. He closes his lips back around the cock in his mouth, tongue lapping around the sensitive head as his hand snakes between Sting’s hips, hand blindly grabbing heavy balls and palming them gently.
Sting’s hips shudder at the feeling, a low whimper escaping his lips as he pulls at the black hair in his grasp.
Rogue heeds the warning, mouth quickly bobbing down Sting’s length once before popping back up, a long spit trail connecting him to Sting’s cock as he lays back down.
“See? Nice and wet for me–” Rogue’s triumphant smirk is quickly replaced by a needy moan as he feels Sting press against his entrance again–this time, the blonde’s wet head easily spreading past his stretched entrance.
“Yeah, nice and wet,” Sting groans as he sinks deeper into Rogue, hands tight around the shadow dragon’s hips as he fills the man beneath him. “I’m gonna make sure you stay this way all fucking day, you damn tease.”
Rogue would’ve gawked at the suggestion if it didn’t turn him on so much; the thought of his ass being filled by Sting, cock so deep inside him that he’d feel Sting in his guts–the thought of it alone destroyed Rogue.
He whined, back arching slightly as he felt Sting finally bottom out, mouth falling open with a string of lewd curses.
“Oh, my–fuck, Sting, please–!” A beg begins to form on Rogue’s lips, words so desperate–filthy wanton desire threatening to explode, but gets caught in his throat when Sting rolls his hips against him.
The blonde moans above Rogue, cock squeezed nicely by the shadow dragon’s ass, mind overwhelmed with just how fucking good Rogue feels.
He could feel every fidget, every clench and spasm, every sorry attempt of the dragon trying to force him to move; it made Sting proud, cock trembling with excitement at the prospect of having the shadow dragon begging for him.
“Don’t worry,” Sting pulls back until only a fraction of his length is sheathed by Rogue’s insides. “You don’t need to beg for me–” he tightens his hold on Rogue’s hips, fingers digging into lean muscle. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t even know what hit you–!”
With that, Sting snapped his hips forward, dick ramming straight into Rogue’s ass. Loud slaps echo throughout the room as Sting thrusts into Rogue, thighs smacking against the shadow dragon’s round ass as he moves.
His pace is fast, deliciously fast, and Rogue struggles to hold himself in place, hands desperately reaching for the headboard to keep himself steady as Sting pounds into him relenetlessly.
“Shit, Rogue, your clenching so tightly around me,” Sting moans loudly as he thrusts deeper into Rogue, dick slamming straight into Rogue’s prostate. Sting groans when the shadow dragon clenches around him, back arching off the back as Sting continues to abuse the same spot. “I’m gonna have to keep fucking you like this, Rogue–fuck, fuck–you’re just so fucking addicting!”
Sting’s words are but a ramble to Rogue, mind fogged by the sensations taking over body. He feels every inch entering and leaving his body, his insides clenching around Sting every time he thrusted deeply inside him.
The movement was delirious, Rogue’s mind barely able to keep up with the sheer strength and intoxication of Sting’s deep thrusts.
“F-fuck-!” Rogue moaned loudly, head thrown back helplessly as Sting pounded into his ass. The shadow dragon could feel a hand tighten around his hip, fingers digging into lean muscle as Sting readjusts them slightly. “S-sting, please–oh, god, yes!- I need more!”
Sting pulls Rogue’s left leg up, knee resting on his shoulder as he settles himself into another ruthless pace.
“You’re so fucking needy–” Sting moans as he pulls back slightly, hips pausing the heavy movements to take in the whining hips of a lust-drunk Rogue. “Can’t believe you wanted my cock this badly.”
Rogue helplessly grinds against the length that’s left inside him, body begging to be filled even further.
“N-no, please!” The shadow dragon feels frustrated tears prick at his eyes as he dazely looks at Sting. The blonde was smirking above him, hand pressed against Rogue’s stomach as he contemplated the shadow dragon. “P-please, Sting–I need you so badly-!”
The white dragon drinks in the sight of Rogue. Eyes focused on his hole clenching sporadically around his cock, entrance begging to be slammed into.
“Of course,” Sting growls, draconic instincts trickling up his spine. A strong desire to mark the shadow ate away in his mind. “I promise that I’ll fill this sweet ass of yours up with my cum, Rogue-!” A low rumble beat at his chest as he growled out Rogue’s name, the sound nearly causing Sting to lose the rest of his composure.
“Then, what are you–”
Before Rogue could finish speaking, before he could wrap his mind around what was to come, Sting pounded deep into him. Deeper than Rogue ever expected him to go
Red eyes snapped wide open, mouth falling as a slew of moans left his lips at the bruising–yet very amazing–feeling of Sting filling him even deeper than before.
A hot hand presses against his lower abdomen, Rogue’s mind barely comprehending Sting enthralled by the feeling of his own dick grinding underneath his hand, cock so far up Rogue’s ass that he could feel it in his lower stomach.
“See?” Sting hisses as he rolls his hips back before slamming back into the shadow dragon.
They both moan in unison.
Rogue just nods his head, mind fully intoxicated by the pure feeling of the white dragon. He was just so full, and Rogue could do nothing else but love the feeling.
“-gonna fuck my shape into you, remember?” Sting teases as he slams repeatedly into Rogue, hips battering against his ass as he abuses the shadow dragon’s prostrate.
The only sound that fills the room is wanton moans of desire and the filthy sound of skin slapping together at a delirious pace–pure sex hung on every corner of that room as Sting fucked Rogue into oblivion.
Rogue’s hips shake at a particularly strong thrust, back arching off the bed as Sting embeds himself deep inside the shadow–he clenches around him tightly.
“S-sting-!” Rogue moans loudly, his vision blurring around the edges as he nears his climax. “M-my cock, please!”
The sound of Rogue begging to cum had Sting seeing stars, his rhythm falters slightly as he gets held in place by Rogue’s strength.
He wraps a hand around Rogue’s hard length, cock so warm and red he knew for a fact it ached painfully at each ragged thrust that caused it to slap against Rogue’s abdomen.
“Shit, Rogue!” Sting moaned as the shadow dragon clenched around him again, almost begging Sting to stay in place. “Can’t cum in you if you don’t let me move–”
“S-sorry-” Rogue apologizes breathlessly, a greedy moan rolling past his lips as he feels Sting snap his hand up and down his length once before pausing again. Sting pulls back again, both minds focused on finally reaching a climax.
“Make sure you scream my name when you cum.” Sting demands softly–not a true demand, but they both knew that Rogue would be complying either way.
And, with that, Sting thrust deeply in Rogue again, hips pulverizing Rogue with intent on painting his insides white.
Delicious moans fill the air as Sting works his hand up and down Rogue’s cock in tandem with his thrusts, and it’s not long before they're both unfurling.
“Sti-ing–!” Rogue cries loudly, hips buckling as he clenches tightly around Sting, white shattering across his vision once again as he peels his back off the bed.
Hot streams of cum burst out of his cock, his length twitching with each spurt as he releases over his chest and onto Sting’s hand.
Just as his back falls back to the mattress, hands tighten around his waist as Sting pushes deeper inside him. His body almost falls forward from the sheer strength of his climax, limbs nearly giving out under his weight as his hips roll against Rogue’s ass.
“Rogue–” the name falls off his tongue as his head rests against the shadow’s shoulder, teeth sinking into the soft skin again as he releases inside Rogue.
A loud moan falls from Rogue’s lips as he feels Sting cum deeply inside of him. Heat fills his senses, mind so painfully aware of every hot, filthy, spurt that shoots out from Sting’s cock.
It felt insanely good.
Everything about Sting felt amazing, and Rogue just about combusted from the concept alone, body trembling with pleasure as they rode out their high.
“S-so?” Sting doesn’t bother pulling himself out of Rogue yet, elbows resting on either side of Rogue as he ate in the look of the shadow dragon. His pale skin was flushed, sweat coated his skin in a glistening afterglow as hot breaths slowly left his lips. Red eyes were still hazed, though more coherent as the time wanes, and lazy hands find themselves nestled on Sting’s hip and arm in some way, shape, or form.
Rogue just hums in response, eyes blinking lazily at the white dragon in front of him. He no longer averts his gaze, allowing his sight to rake over Sting’s form.
“Are you finally gonna talk to me, Rogue?” The blonde sighed out, body weight slowly sinking on top of the shadow dragon; he didn’t care if he was laying on dried cum and sweat, Sting just wanted to feel all of Rogue.
“Maybe.” Rogue swallows harshly, heart beating strongly in his chest.
“I can hear you gettin’ nervous,” Sting chuckles softly, one hand tangling itself in Rogue’s black hair. “You don’t gotta be scared of me, ya know?”
Silence settles in between their forms as their breaths mellow out, bodies softening as peace fills the space around them. Sting just focuses on the calming rubs of delicate fingertips as Rogue lazily trails his fingers up and down the blonde’s back–tips expertly ghosting over lean muscles and faded scars as if Rogue knew every line and network of memory that lingered over Sting’s body.
“I know.” Rogue breathes out, red eyes focused on the ceiling, heart full of an emotion he wasn’t ready to name. “Just…not sure what to say.”
Sting hums as he thinks, his own hand still detangling the long length of Rogue’s silky locks. “How about I start–that should help, right?”
Rogue snorts, head shaking lightly at the guildmaster’s remark. “If you insist.”
“After last time,” Sting peels himself up slowly, back on his elbows so he can really peer into Rogue’s face. “I couldn’t get you off my mind. It’s like you were embedded into my brain.”
The shadow dragon hums lazily in response, hands slightly light rubbing Sting’s hair. His eyes are closed as he thinks, Rogue focused on the soft breathing of the blonde on top of him. “I feel the same way, Sting, but I can’t help but be worried.”
“Are you worried about messing up our friendship?” Sting asks carefully, knowing the subject is delicate.
Red eyes fall back to the blonde on top of him, mouth pressed in a tight line as he thinks. A small nod of his head was his only response. He instinctively pulls his hands free from Sting’s blonde locks, body suddenly far too aware of how vulnerable he was being.
Sting pulls himself back slightly, just far enough to get a good look at the dragonslayer beneath him. Rogue looked so…fragile at the moment.
The white dragon hated it.
A gentle hand reaches out, body moving before his brain can catch up, and rests his right palm on Rogue’s cheek, thumb rubbing the smooth skin as he gazes into red eyes. Words couldn’t explain Sting’s emotions at this point, heart and body so enthralled by Rogue that his entire essence surely screamed in dark, shadowy entrails.
“I get you’re scared, and trust me I’ve thought about it, too. But the one cool thing about us?” Rogue sighs as Sting nudges him, eyes sharp and serious as he compels the shadow dragon to respond.
“We’re invincible together, right?” Rogue questions, a slight role to his eyes as he lets out a small chuckle.
“Well, duh! But even more so, you are my absolute ride or die, just like I know I’m yours–there’s no way that even if things didn’t work out, that we’d let our long-lasting friendship fail. There’s no way, Rogue.” Sting leans back down once he finishes speaking, eyes darting between red eyes and glossy, wet lips. The blonde wanted to kiss him, to reassure him of everything and anything.
Rogue eyes Sting, red eyes observing every form, line, shadow, and breath. His gaze would’ve been unnerving for any other person, but Sting was not just any other person; he was Rogue’s best friend. Instead, the shadow dragons noted how Sting’s hair fell flat, styled locks falling naturally down from the extraneous activities and humidity from the bath. His skin was still flushed and warm, the beat of his heart strong and steady; so sure of everything. The shadow dragon leans forward, almost closing the distance between them.
“Then, can I ask you something?” Rogue’s voice is a little rough as he speaks, throat dry. He absently licks his lips, mind working overtime as he notices Sting following his small movement.
A grunt is Sting’s only response, Rogue takes it as permission to ask.
“Do you have actual feelings for me?”
If Sting was shocked by the question, he hid it well. Instead, he chuckles softly again, forehead fully leaning against Rogue’s. Blue eyes never leave red as he speaks.
“Of course, I thought it was pretty obvious! Do you think I’d do this to just anyone?” Sting shakes his head lightly, unable to not tease his best friend. “I can’t believe you didn't know I've been crushing on you for ages. I could've sworn that you knew!”
Rogue laughs softly in response, an airy feeling lighting up in his bones. “I mean, I had a feeling, but I was never sure.”
“Should be pretty obvious by now, at least I hope it is. But here’s the next question–” a devious smirk, fangs and all, paints Sting’s face as he puts his weight on his hands. He wanted to see Rogue’s reaction. “Do you like me?”
A small choke catches in Rogue’s throat, cheeks heating up as he quickly shifts his gaze, his normally calm and collected energy nowhere to be seen. A soft hand cradles his chin, forcing red eyes to meet blue.
“We-ell?” Sting drags out the word, facing closing in on the blushing shadow dragon. “I know you have an answer.” Rogue purses his lips lightly as he mulls over his words, his own hands digging into Sting’s hips as he snakes a hand back up to blonde hair.
Rogue pulls Sting down before the blonde can realize what he’s up to, and lightly pressed his lips against the others. He looks up at Sting, eyes earnest and soft, feelings beyond words twinkling in the red orbs.
“I like you too, asshole.”
A gentle warm spreads over two dragonslayers, bodies finally relaxed as worlds of weight seem to ease from their shoulders. Sting happily rests his head on Rogue’s chest as their breath begins to even out, one hand gently drawing shapes on the shadow dragon’s chest as sleep readily pulls them under.
Maybe things would change, and maybe they wouldn’t, but as long as Sting had Rogue by his side, he knew that everything would work out.