Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Welcome To The Sequel

Read if you plan on requesting, otherwise, go ahead and skip.

You can request pretty much anything (I enjoy learning about new/obscure kinks and such, and this is a judgement free zone). However, do keep in mind, I have the ability to deny any request for any reason. As an author, I want to feel comfortable with what I'm writing, otherwise the writing will be shit, and my mental health will suffer. Sorry in advance. 

I also have over 80+ current requests, so if you leave a request please be understanding that it might take a while. However, I do intend to get to everything eventually. I ain't no quitter /silly

Things I'm not comfortable writing (aka, I will not write them if you request them)
- RemRom (aka Remus and Roman) unless it's platonic, or in a poly setting where they don't touch. Nothing pertaining to them being romantically or sexually involved.
- Emetophilia (vomit kink)
- Coprophilia (shit kink)
- Fem!Sides or trans sides 
- Rape
- Pedophilia
- Mpreg
- Side x reader
- Anything involving Thomas or Nico
- The daddy kink
- Anal Vore

If you have any questions regarding this list/need clarification, feel free to ask, but do remember that I don't necessarily have to justify my boundaries and would appreciate if they're not challenged negatively (genuine curiosity is fine). 

With that out of the way, I think we're good to go! <3

Chapter Text

1. Rules + Info + Requests

2. Chapter Summaries

3. Payment: 
DRLAMP (Janus x Remus x Logan x Virgil x Patton x Roman), Sex, Double Penetration, Riding, Handjobs, Face Fucking, Degradation, Tears, Spit
Prompt: Can you do one with Bottom Sub Patton x Everyone where he just likes to pay with sex

4. Video Games:
Dukexiety (Remus x Virgil), Exhibition, Sex
Prompt: Smaller person (likely Virgil), and bigger person (likely Remy or Remus.) Of course they play video games, however, Virgil wants attention and R won't give it to him because "but video games, babe!" So, Virgil ride's R while he plays video games. Probably in a voice chat too.

5. Vulnerable: 
Logicality (Logan x Patton), Sex, Breeding Speak, A/B/O Dynamics, Hickeys
Prompt: Hurt comfort and a/b/o where Patton(Alpha) and Logan(Alpha) have been married for a while and lately they've finally started to have sex because Patton grew up in a very traditional family and he has a hard time submitting to Logan without feeling shameful and humiliating. Logan realizes and softly helps Pat into sub space. Top!Logan and bottom!Patton. Plus points if Logan's a sweet husband

6. Bug:
Intruloceit (Remus x Logan x Janus), Vore, Detailed Digestion, Sex, Felching, Micro/Macro
Prompt: Plsplspls intruloceit vore

7. Boob Job:
Loceit (Logan x Janus), Nipple Play, Oversensitivity, Humping, Dacryphilia
Prompt: Maybe Janus would even have to press his pecs together and fuck the fat tits Logan essentially has.

8. Home Alone: 
Demus (Janus x Remus), Toys, Plugs, Hair Pulling, Thigh Fucking
Prompt: A roommate who constantly makes noise like he's getting off/fucked and like, lays in bed twitching like he's got somethin in his ass, so what happens when someone buys him a thrusting/vibrating dildo/plug via amazon and it shows up when he's home alone? Does he use it alone? Does he get caught by the roommate who bought it? That day? Eventually? Ever? Pairing of your choice

9. Assume:
Intruality (Remus x Patton), Sex, Degradation, Restraints, Spanking
Prompt: Could you maybe do something with intruality where Patton's like assumed by everyone that he has no idea what sex is while Remus is the opposite and no one knows how they're together. And behind closed doors Patton's really dominant and dirty, his pure an innocent act is all fake and he loves putting Remus in his place, tying him up, spanking him and degrading him until he's begging for Patton to fuck him

10. Human Need:
Logicality (Logan x Patton), Sex, Breeding Kinks, Cockwarming
Prompt: How about some logicality with Logan having a breeding kink and denying it and Patton telling him he has a breeding kink (and that's okay) but Logan keeps insisting it's just his 'human need to reproduce, so of course he'd want to get the person he loves pregnant.' and Patton's just like 'yeah, okay, sure.' top Logan and bottom Pat

11. At Long Last:
Dukexiety (Remus x Virgil), Voodoo, Sex, Felching
Prompt: Hey mate so I'm a sucker for Virgil being rendered helpless and overstimulated so like could I put a request in for Virgil × Remus with Remus finally getting a hold of Virgil's voodoo doll?/Remus finally getting a hold of Virgil's voodoo doll?

12. Spring Break: 
Anxceit (Virgil x Janus), Feederism, Handjobs, Blowjobs, Finger Sucking
Prompt: Any case I can get more feederism my way? Maybe sub! V and dom!pat or jan or both yk- Dom is worried sub isn't eating enough bc busy college life and decides durin a spring vacation or smtg to have a feedin session to fix it :D

13. Begging For Your Body:
Intruality (Remus x Patton), Sex, Overstimulation, Grinding
Prompt: Intruality with soft!dom Patton and bottom Remus. The main plot of this would be that maybe Remus was feeling down, having intrusive thoughts (as he does), specifically about his body image, and Patton is there to comfort him and love up on him <3. Kinks are praise, grinding, begging (from the dom perspective, (ex: "Please, Please let me make you feel good, baby?"), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and a lot of pet names-)

14. Aftercare:
Analogical (Virgil x Logan), Sex, Bondage, Degradation, Choking
Prompt: I'm a sucker for big aftercare- especially after something like a brutal scene with a partner lol Analogical Kinks: Choking, praise, degrading and bondage- but ending with explicit aftercare? For the base storyline do whatever you wish! Have free-range :))

15. Cock Snack:
Analoceitmus (Virgil x Logan x Janus x Remus), Micro/Macro, Oral Play, Cock Vore, Restraints, Cum Digestion, Sex, Fingering, Edging, Crying
Prompt: P. 3 of c vore fic? 

16. A Naga's Plaything:
Roceit (Roman x Janus), Cunnilingus, Blowjobs, Hair-Pulling, Humping, Dacryphilia
Prompt: I was also hoping if you could do bottom Roman if you want... rociet with Naga Janus? Any kinks you want

17. Doll-ightful Destresser 
Logince (Logan x Roman), Voodoo, Sex, Gagging, Overstimulation, Premature Orgasms, Crying, 
Prompt: More voodoo please any ship

18. P.E.T.
Intrulogical (Remus x Logan), Robofucking, Computer fucking, Wireplay, Machine Oil, Overstimulation, Objectum
Prompt: Logan whos a sentient P.E.T. computer who remus gets by means of a gift or something from his grandparents. logan has programmed sentience, and remus plays with his wires and fucks his insides while logans screen displays a wall of overwhelmed binary. with remus calling logan his pet throughout bc thats whats on the body so thats clearly his name

19. Wallet
Roceit (Roman x Janus), Inanimate Transformation, Wallet Transformation, Fingering, Edging, Overstimulation, Handjobs, Premature Orgasms
Prompt: Janus turning roman into his wallet and using him to pay for things. roman feels continuously full from the coins and money, and feels like he's being fingered or stretched open whenever januss fingers dip inside of him

20. Pleading And Punishments
Loceit (Logan x Janus), Caning, Premature Ejaculation, Overstimulation, Handjobs
Prompt: Could you do a Logan x Anyone, Logan being bottom, Logan overworking himself and gets stressed from it. He jerks off to calm down and his lover walks in on him. I was thinking for this one basically a sexy punishment for Logan, any kinks you wanna put in is alright!

21. Preening
Prinxiety (Roman x Virgil), Preening, Handjobs, Overstimulation
Prompt: I was wondering if you'd be able to write something with prinxiety or Virgil/Roman/Janus in some kind of winged!au where the wings are pretty sensitive and one of them has feathered wings and kinda gets off on having them groomed/preened? Maybe they get embarrassed about it so let their wings get a little messy before the other(a) step in to help and find this out? And then maybe decide to make things fun (wink) Idm necessaily who's in which role :3 I just never see smut with a focus on wings and think it would be really cute <3 no pressure tho!! /Gen

22. Scribbling Your Mind Away
Kingceit (King Creativity x Janus), Inanimate Transformation, Pen Transformation, Edging, Premature Orgasms, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Blowjobs, Ink Ingestion
Prompt: what about Janus x king?

23. Needy
Loking (Logan x King), Sex, Hickeys, Blood, Crying, Overstimulation
Prompt: well now i immediately need a lovey dovey dom king and needy overstimulated logan

24. Drink And Fuck
Analoceit (Virgil x Logan x Janus), Lactation, Nipple Play, Sex, Double Penetration, Premature Orgasms, Overstimulation, Frottage
Prompt: analoceit gay sex... logan lactating & virgil & janus drinking his milk & fucking him senseless :3 - @pupplaylogan

25. Red Flags
Intrulogical (Remus x Logan), Gross Sex, Burping Kinks, F-slur, Dacryphilia, Degradation, Sweat Kinks, Sex, Slapping, Kicking, Biting, Blood, Overstimulation
Prompt: Intrulogical where Remus is just filled to the brim with red flags in presumably a human universe, he's obnoxious and gross, he'll spit on the floor indoors or disrespectfully smoke in situations that it's obviously rude to do so in, insult or pick on people just to annoy them, stick his gum to people's clothing because he thinks it's funny, and Logan who's this incredibly smart little guy who's respectful and practically the stereotype teacher's pet type of Personality where he always plays by the rules and for some reason his type happens to be the most disgusting obnoxious person he could possibly ever meet, and then they have freak nasty scandalous sex

26. Cuddles With A Touch Of Sex
Kingceit (King Creativity x Janus), Fingering, Sex
Prompt: Can we have a king creativity  x Sub Janus with soft cuddle sex?

27. Frotting, Frotting, Frotting
Analogical (Virgil x Logan), Frottage, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Dry Orgasms
Prompt: analogical frotting. please. please. please. please pelase ple - @pupplaylogan

28. I'll Show You What I Can Really Do
Anxsleep (Virgil x Remy), Sweat, Sex, Overstimulation
Prompt: Myrequest is . Remy watchinf virgil work out but he cantstop flirting w him / staring @ his muscles & sayinf stupid shit like "I bet u can carry me with those :proudtt: " so virgil decides 2 showhim what he can rlly do withhis arms (fucks him hard while manhandling him or something . Or propping him up aahjnst a wall . Idk u can get creative with that part) uhm . Yea:perfectangel: also obvi top virgil & bottom remy . Maybe a bit of overstim like virgil rlly showsremy what he can do

29. A Dragon's Most Precious Treasure
Roceit (Roman x Janus), Feederism, Handjobs, Sex, Blood, Biting, Hickeys, Overstimulation
Prompt: If I may request :333 Possibly a fic with Roceit, Prinxiety or Anaroceit where one of the sides is a dragon who kidnaps the other(s) to have as part of their hoard, treating them like a treasure, dressing them up with jewels and such, all sorts of pampering and praise etcetera and then, of course, fucking them until they can hardly think anymore (don't need a toy who thinks too much after all) Just a thought :3333

Chapter Text

"Does everyone seriously have debts to collect from Patton?" Logan asks, as he squeezes through the wall of people gathered around Patton's door. According to Virgil, he'd been standing there the longest, but both Remus and Roman had insisted that their favors had accumulated the most amount of interest, so they should get first dibs.

Roman grumbles as he crosses his arms over his chest, but Janus merely sighs.

"He's been asking a lot of us for favors lately," Janus states, before his bottom lip juts out in a dramatic, mocking pout, mirroring Virgil's own grumpy face. "He assured us he'd pay us back, but hasn't owned up to his word."

"Patton, you can't just ignore us forever!" Remus shouts through the door, before punching it. Though his fist goes right through it, he makes no effort to try and push inside as he's swiftly stopped by Virgil with the simple warning of "give him time."

There's silence from the other side for a moment, before a sudden gasped "give- give me a minute!"

Both Roman and Virgil immediately flush at just how breathy Patton sounds, but Remus grins at his voice. Logan looks between everyone, before he backs up to allow space for Patton to eventually open the door.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually there's soft footsteps, and then the door's being opened.

Patton's only in his boxers, with pre clearly leaking through the fabric. His face is flushed and forehead drenched in sweat.

"I'm sorry," Patton quickly apologizes, panting slightly. "I never meant to make you all wait so long. But I wanted to make sure I was properly prepared before paying you guys." He gives an innocent smile that doesn't match his words in any regard, and instead only serves to make Roman and Virgil's blushes worsen.

Remus and Janus however are incredibly pleased. While Janus offers steady praise, Remus immediately gets right into complaining and degrading Patton for wanting an excuse to finger himself, and not even letting Remus watch!

The cacophony of noise has Logan tensing slightly, before he moves forward, being the first to reach Patton and grab his hips. He backs Patton back up into the room, and the others follow behind him.

"Thanks for prepping yourself," Logan murmurs, as the others quietly talk behind him, already sharing with each other what they're going to do to Patton in order to collect their dues. "You know your safeword."

Patton feels the back of his knees hit the bed, and happily falls back onto it, pulling Logan over him. "Always," he responds, just as softly, before pulling Logan in for a slow and intense kiss.

Unfortunately for the two of them, the moment doesn't last long, as no one else present in the room is very patient. Moments later, there's a rough hand on his shoulder yanking him away from Patton, everyone else clearly seeing that Remus is the cause of the interruption.

"You were here last!" Remus complains, as he slides between the two of them, forcing Logan to take a few steps back. "There's no way in hell you get the right to touch first!"

He sounds offended by the notion of Logan getting to Patton first, and shamelessly moves to straddle Patton's hips, pushing him further up the bed in the process. Teasingly, he rolls his hips down Patton's hard cock.

Logan goes to protest that none of them seemed to be willing to take initiative, but Virgil speaks first.

"Well, by that 'logic,' who says you get that right?" Virgil confronts, stomping his foot. "I was here before any of you!"

Roman's the next to interject. "I was the first person Patton came to with a favor; I've been waiting the longest to be compensated!"

Patton's left to watch as an argument sparks between all of them, still flustered and horny beneath Remus who's hips seem to roll on their own accord as he mocks and yells at everyone else. The combination of sounds only serve to stress and upset everyone further, making Patton grimace. He knows that if he doesn't do anything about this, it'll go on forever!

So, after a few seconds, he loudly clears his throat and announces "who said you guys have to take turns? You could all try doing it at once..."

He flushes at his own suggestion, but it's what would make the most sense. Besides, he didn't stretch himself open to only take one cock at a time!

They all look between each other, mostly stunned into silence, before Remus grins wide. Loudly, he exclaims "you fucking slut! You just wanted an excuse to have an orgy!" and then slides further up Patton's body, pressing down on Patton's hard cock before he sits atop Patton's chest instead.

Without hesitation, he's wiggling his pants down and pulling his cock out, letting it spring out and slap against Patton's face, who flushes and cringes at the pre already smearing over his cheeks.

Hands on his thighs have Patton suddenly gasping and attempting to crane his head to the side and look at who's touching him, surprised to see Virgil and Roman being so forward.

They bicker quietly, but each work on spreading a thigh apart, and then Virgil's fingers are sliding over Patton's hard cock and down to his slick hole, flushing when he sees the lube dripping out of him.

Janus sits himself on the bed, crossing his legs (as though trying to hide his own excitement) as he glides a finger over the slit of Patton's cock, teasing it nonchalantly. "I'm okay with this," he states, glancing at each of the others. They all murmur half-hearted agreements, as their touching continues.

Logan's the last to reach Patton's body, and he crawls onto the bed too, sitting across from Janus. There's hardly any places left for him to touch, so he doesn't, just watching for now.

Patton strains his neck in order to lean his head up, gently kissing the tip of Remus's cock, as though he's just as eager as they are to get things going. The real touching has hardly even begun, and Patton already feels so hot and flustered.

It's interesting to feel so many different hands on him; the different textures, sizes, temperatures, even, feel so unique and overwhelming on his skin. But, of course, with Remus included in this little rendezvous, there's no way Patton's truly ever going to be able to focus on their slow, sweet touches.

Before Patton even has time to process it, Remus is scooting the slightest bit forward, the tip of his cock jutting against Patton's lips. Remus's hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, as he lightly smacks it against Patton's face, smearing his pre everywhere carelessly.

"Come on!" Remus urges, impatiently. "Weren't you the one that was so eager to get fucked by all of us at once? Hurry up and open that mouth of yours so I can get us started!"

Patton flushes, but obediently parts his lips, allowing Remus to shift forward and push his cock into Patton's mouth without any hesitation. The others can't help but watch Remus in surprise, shocked at how quickly he's grabbing the sides of Patton's face to prevent him from instinctively trying to pull away upon gagging.

Rolling his hips, Remus works to drive his cock as deep down Patton's throat as he can in this position, desperate to hear his sexy little gags. He doesn't bother to wait for the others, but after Remus's forward display, they're quick to get moving soon after.

Janus moves the fastest, realizing that if he doesn't he won't get a good piece of the action. Obviously, he takes what he wants, using Remus's actions as a distraction in order to slide off the edge of the bed, snatch Patton's abandoned bottle of lube, and maneuver himself between Roman and Virgil.

Virgil's the first person to notice the rapid change in position, mostly because Janus's hand is quick to shove Virgil's own away from Patton's cock.

"Hey!" Virgil shouts, causing everyone to turn to Janus, instead of focusing on Patton's pretty, stuffed face.

"That's totally unfair," Virgil complains, as Janus merely smirks and pulls his cocks out, smearing lube over the shafts. "You can't just push people out of the way! I was clearly here first!" He tries to move forward to block Patton's hole, rather childishly, but Janus merely moves Virgil's hand out of the way again and begins to push the tips of his cocks into Patton's slick hole, earning a loud cry followed by a harsh choking noise as Remus mutters "if you're still making noises, then clearly I'm not gagging you good enough."

Roman whines. "Janus! This isn't fair!"

"Oh, calm down." Janus rolls his eyes, not even sparing Roman a glance. "You're not on Virgil's side anyway. If I hadn't stepped between you two, you would waste precious time arguing about who got to go first. I'm simply preventing an otherwise inevitable altercation." Janus turns to smile and bat his eyes at Virgil, mockingly. "Besides, you're pathetically submissive anyway. If you got to fuck Patton, it'd be such a waste! You'd be much better off riding him."

Using his hand, he guides Virgil's own fingers to Patton's hard cock, making Virgil flush.

Behind him, Roman stomps his foot. "What about me?" he pesters, as though he's a child who can't make his own decisions.

"Patton has two hands," Logan points out, huffing. "I believe that's what we're unfortunately delegated to."

"Oh, look at how smart you are," Janus teases, pinching Logan's cheek and musing as Logan frowns, before pulling away in order to begin stripping his clothes off. It doesn't matter that he doesn't get the special treat of Patton's wet mouth or warm hole, he was happy to be receiving pleasure at all with how much Patton had been depriving them.

As Janus's hips fall flush against Patton's, Roman grumbles angrily, as he also moves to get onto the bed. Both he and Logan get their pants off at generally the same time, and then they're both reaching for Patton's hands.

"You better make up for neglecting me," Roman pouts, as he guides Patton's fingers to his shaft. Patton looks at him briefly, before he's gagged again, bringing tears to his eyes.

Logan wordlessly does the same, setting a hand against Patton's stomach and his other against the bed, keeping him steady and balanced as Patton instinctively squeezes his cock, making him utter a curse.

Between Patton's legs, Virgil struggles to get his jeans down as Janus lubes up Patton's cock for him, teasing it nice and slowly with precise movements, as Janus stays resting inside of Patton's hole. He's not moving, yet, but he will be soon.

"Hurry up, Virgil! We're all waiting!" Remus huffs, while still rutting his hips into Patton's mouth. He wasn't waiting on anyone; he just wants to complain. "I want to feel him moan around my cock as you and Janus use him."

Virgil scoffs as he moves to straddle Patton's hips, flushing as he faces Janus. Janus sets his hands on Virgil's waist, guiding him over Patton's cock and even holding it steady for him. Virgil avoids meeting his eyes.

"The only thing the rest of you had to do was stick your cock somewhere," Virgil bitterly mutters, and though the others hear him, they choose to stay silent.

Virgil sets a hand on Janus's shoulder for support as he begins to lower himself down, biting his lip as he sinks to the base of Patton's cock, groaning at the same time Patton moans, both of them feeding off each other's pleasure.

"There," Logan breathes, running his fingers absentmindedly up Patton's arm. "Now we're all settled, and you can finally work off all that debt."

Patton whimpers, and chokes again as Remus rolls his hips in response. He does listen obediently though, as his hands start moving over both Roman and Logan's cocks. Logan's silent, but Roman lets out a dramatic moan, making Patton shiver.

Seeing that Patton's good to start going, Janus slides his cocks out so there's nothing but the tips inside, before he's snapping his hips and shoving them deep into Patton's ass, grinning at the loud moan it earns. His thrusts jostle Patton, making Virgil curse and moan as he lifts his hips and drops them down, riding Patton's cock prettily. He holds his shirt up between his teeth, both to show off his pale, pudgy chest and to help muffle his noises. His nails dig into Janus's shoulder, which he uses to support himself as he pulls himself up, and then down again.

Each time Virgil comes down, Patton's hands tighten around Roman and Logan's cocks, while moaning around Remus's, who's the loudest in the room.

"Fuck yeah," Remus groans, snapping his hips into Patton's mouth, enjoying the messy gag he gets in response. Sweat is forming on Patton's forehead, rolling down his round face before falling onto the mattress below, mixing in with the drool and spit already leaking from Patton's mouth as well.

Janus lets Virgil use him to help balance, as he focuses on fucking into Patton properly. He doesn't bother going slow, instead just using Patton as though he's just a toy.

It's what he is, essentially. It's what they're all using him as. As payment.

Roman lets out a cute little moan, holding the back of his knuckles to his mouth to try and muffle his sounds as he fucks Patton's fist sloppily. His shirt is undone and open, exposing his tan and muscular chest, glistening with sweat as well. A glance at Logan reveals a similar sight. Though his shirt is still on, he's also pressing his hand to his mouth. His look is more concentration than straight pleasure, as though he's focusing primarily on keeping his noises repressed and his orgasm away.

After all, Patton was stroking their cocks sloppily, and the frequent tight squeezing was pleasureful torture. They were in less control than everyone else, and so they were fighting to drag this out as long as possible in hopes of not being the first to come.

Janus can't help a soft groan slipping past his lips as he thrusts deep into Patton, cocks rubbing against each other and Patton's slick inner walls. One of his hands rests on one of Patton's thighs, pushing it up and digging his fingers into it, with the other holding Virgil's hip to help further support him.

Thankfully, everyone else's noises are a lot louder than his, specifically Remus and Roman's. Though Roman tries to bite back his noises, he's quite sensitive, and thus his breathy moans are a bit dramatic, and his whines even more so.

And Remus doesn't care about being quiet, even though he's muffling Patton's own noises. He's moaning, humping against Patton's lips and shamelessly babbling about how he's going to pump his load down Patton's throat. Make him choke on it. Make him pay.

"Dumb slut," Remus grunts, as he keeps his hand planted on Patton's forehead, pressing his head into the mattress to keep his tear-covered cheeks still as he fucks hard into Patton's mouth. "Maybe if you actually paid your dues you'd get some nice one-on-one time. But no." He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, earning another gag and Patton's hips to buck, fucking up into Virgil right as he sinks down, earning a shuddering cry.

"Maybe you wanted to wait, huh?" Remus then teases, grinning wide. Beads of sweat drip down his chin and against Patton's face. "Maybe you wanted all of us at once. What an attention whore!"

Remus then spits onto Patton's face, and Patton can't flinch as it hits right above his eyes, just instead squeezing his eyes shut before opening them drearily. He moans, but Logan huffs.

"Remus. Careful," Logan warns, right as Patton squeezes his cock hard, which draws a particularly loud moan from Logan's throat. Flustered, Logan tucks his face into his shoulder as Patton pumps his cock firmly, unaware of the pain he just inflicted, or how much Logan liked it.

Remus scoffs at Logan's words, but thumbs his glob of spit over Patton's eye and cheek, before groaning.

Since he got started sooner than everyone, it's no surprise he's getting close first, but it incites a sort of need in everyone else. Patton had been depriving them after all; why should they hold themselves back from their release?

Virgil and Patton both let out particularly loud moans in unison, as Janus's cocks thrust against Patton's prostate while Patton's cock is pushed against Virgil.

And while Janus keeps going, aiming for that spot over and over, Virgil sinks completely down on shaky thighs, voice trembling as he rolls his hips and lets out small moans at the little friction he's giving himself.

"Too much for you to handle?" Janus teases, and Virgil hisses at the comment, narrowing his eyes at Janus.

Janus hums in response, smiling innocently as he says a little louder "if only you could see him, Patton. He looks so pretty on your cock. I bet you wish it was your hands on his hips instead of mine. Pity." Janus sucks in a shaky breath, attempting to steady himself to avoid interrupting his words with a moan. "Maybe if you'd acted a little sooner, you could have gotten him all to yourself."

Patton whines, toes curling as he desperately tries to hold back his own orgasm. Virgil just feels so good around his cock, Janus feels so good inside of him; everyone surrounding him, watching him, getting off from or to him is so good.

Roman is the first to come.

He does so with a loud moan, thrusting his hips into Patton's grasp before spilling over his fingers. Roman humps through his orgasm, before he's pushing Patton's hand away with a whine, panting.

Logan, as if spurred on by Roman, comes seconds later. He muffles his cry with his hands, but makes just as much of a mess over Patton's hand, the sheets, and even the side of Patton's body.

Both he and Roman scoot away, giving the other three space and time to finish.

Remus fucks into Patton's mouth hard and fast, before he comes without warning down Patton's throat, making him choke. He splutters, but Remus's cock serves as a barricade, and so Patton's forced to swallow it all down, only getting to take a proper breath when Remus is satisfied and pulls away, rolling to Logan's side and snuggling up against him despite the mess between them. 

So, it's just Janus and Virgil, the two providing Patton intense pleasure, both of them quick and unyielding. Janus's thrusts are calculated and smooth, while Virgil's bouncing is desperate and sloppy. 

And with Patton's mouth unblocked, his noises spill freely. He's loud with his moans and cries, and with his hands no longer busy with Logan and Roman's cocks, they curl into the mattress instead. His nails dig down into the sheets, begging them to be nice to him. To let him come. 

"Don't stop," Patton gasps, teary-eyed. "Don't stop- please!" 

Neither Virgil or Janus plan on it. 

Virgil's nails tighten against Janus's shoulder, moaning. A few more bounces on Patton's cock and he's coming, making a mess of both himself and unfortunately Janus, with Virgil sinking down fully onto Patton's cock and groaning as he climaxes. He sits there for a few seconds, panting, before Roman reaches over to help Virgil up and off it, with Patton's cock leaking pre and slick with lube still, aching to be touched. 

Janus grants him the pleasure. 

Stroking quickly, Janus isn't surprised when Patton comes quickly with a loud cry, arching into Janus's touch and squeezing his eyes shut as pleasure and bliss wrecks his entire body, with Janus generously stroking him through his orgasm before finally letting his cock go. And Janus comes moments later. 

He holds tight to Patton's hips, shoving his cocks deep into Patton as he comes, filling Patton with his come before he's pulling out. He cringes at the sight of his own mess spilling out of Patton, but knows it'll be cleaned up in a matter of time.  

Soft panting and other breathy noises fill the room, before Patton's being pulled to the side and surrounded by all of them; he's squished in the center of an otherwise affectionate cuddle pile. He sighs and relaxes into them, knowing it'll only be a matter of time before he lets his debt accumulate once again. 

Chapter Text

Virgil's quiet when opening and shutting Remus's door, but he's quick to complain the moment his arms fall around Remus's neck. 

"Remus," Virgil whines, dramatically, "you've been cooped up in here all day! Come hang out with me." 

Remus shrugs Virgil's arms off of him, hardly sparing him a glance as his fingers loudly click and swipe at his controller, resulting in a bloody, gory picture to be displayed on the screen in front of him. His computer doesn't make noise, but Remus is wearing headphones over one ear, with the other having been knocked away by Virgil's affection. 

"I'm busy," Remus responds, as he suddenly utters a curse under his breath, and Virgil watches his character die. Remus groans, before finally turning his head to look at Virgil. 

Quietly, Virgil hears the muffled complaints of Remus's friends through his headphones. 

"Come spend time with me," Virgil urges again, as he walks around the chair, standing in front of it and blocking view of the computer. "We can do whatever you want." 

"But... but video games!" Remus argues, holding up his controller. Virgil stands there, crossing his arms, before huffing. 

He sounds as though he's going to give up, and Remus raises his controller as he prepares to keep playing, but then Virgil's just moving forward, pulling himself into Remus's lap and straddling his thighs. His own calves wrap around the back of the chair. 

"Don't let me stop you," Virgil then urges, which has Remus staring at him for a moment, before grinning wide. A sloppy kiss is pressed to Virgil's lips, before Remus is wrapping his arms around Virgil's waist and settling his chin on his shoulder, getting right back to the game. All while Virgil's hands reach down to start fiddling with Remus's jeans, getting them undone, and then getting them down just enough to let Virgil see Remus's boxers (and the slit on the front of them). 

Remus is more than happy to lift his hips a little in order to help Virgil navigate his clothing, groaning when Virgil pulls his cock out. He keeps his eyes concentrated on the screen, but that doesn't stop him from wiggling his hips in excitement. 

He loves when Virgil initiates things; the little bursts of confidence typically lead to fun and exciting situations like this! Plus, he gets the best of both worlds; his hot boyfriend being sexual, and video games!

Slowly, he rubs his hand over Remus's cock, feeling his own face get a bit warm when Remus doesn't even try to hold back his little grunts, despite the fact he knows Remus is on a call with his friends. 

Part of him tries to reason that they'll just assume Remus's noises come from a place of focus, especially because Remus otherwise effortlessly holds up a conversation, but at the same time Virgil wouldn't be surprised if they knew Remus was being sexual on call. A quick glance at the screen following a question from Remus reveals two small profile pics lighting up on the side as green surrounds them, showing them responding. Virgil recognizes the pictures as belonging to Janus and Logan. 

Flushing, Virgil immediately knows they're already aware of what's going on, and is further flustered by the fact he knows they don't care. 

A quick kiss to the side of his face makes Virgil turn his head back around as Remus whispers "don't stop" into Virgil's ear, and then pulling him just a bit closer. 

Virgil's face is dark red, but he gives Remus a slow handjob just to make sure he's fully worked up, before he pulls away. 

"Two seconds," Virgil murmurs, as he kisses Remus briefly, before he stands up and digs through a nearby drawer, while one of his hands works to get his skinny jeans off. 

He manages to get his pants and boxers down right as he finds a small bottle of lube, and then quickly gets back onto Remus's lap, who can't help hungrily looking over Virgil's nude lower half. 

Virgil fumbles with the lube before getting it open, and haphazardly pours some over the length of Remus's cock. He uses his hand to spread it around, and shushes Remus once or twice when Remus groans out of humiliation. 

Then the lube's being tossed onto Remus's desk, and Virgil's hands are gripping Remus's shoulders. He scoots forward until the front of his body is pressed against Remus's and sits up fully on his knees. Remus's shaft runs between his cheeks, making him whine softly as he suddenly feels embarrassed for being so needy and perverted, but he's in too deep now. He wants this, and Remus seems to want it too. 

Virgil takes his time, giving Remus the time to realize that he's going to get started. And then he's holding Remus's cock, guiding himself down on it. He bites his lip hard to keep his noises in, until his ass is flush with Remus's legs. 

He's quick to hide his face in Remus's shoulder, but flushes dark when Remus lets out an unashamed groan. 

He really should have known that Remus wouldn't care enough to be quiet, but the fact he isn't is just as arousing. Furthermore, he's shameless with the long, drawn-out swears he spills under his breath and directly into the microphone. It's obviously sexual, as opposed to frustration, and he doesn't even stop himself from chuckling when Virgil lightly smacks him in the chest in a scolding manner. 

Just for Virgil's sake, Remus flicks his mic off for a second, knowing it'll make this seem more suspicious but deciding he doesn't care. 

"You're taking my cock so well," Remus praises, grinning as his eyes briefly dart from the screen, to Virgil, and then back towards the screen. "You didn't even have to stretch yourself out, though it's not like I wouldn't have enjoyed that show." Remus's tongue swipes over his lips, which tickles Virgil's cock a lot more than he'd like it to. "Having sex so often has it's perks. Maybe you should interrupt me more often." 

Virgil scowls, pulling away from Remus's shoulder. "Maybe you should pay more attention to me." 

Remus smiles, lips stretching into an amused grin, until Remus is shifting his position in order to properly thrust up into Virgil's hole, causing Virgil to cut himself off with a pathetic little moan. 

His painted nails dig into Remus's shoulder, cursing loudly, before he's rubbing his head against Remus's shoulder again. Remus clicks his mic back on, and gives a half-hearted apology, as Virgil gently rolls his hips down against Remus's thick cock. 

He's slow with his movements, biting back his groans despite the amount of effort it takes. 

And Remus can pretend like he's more focused on the game, but Virgil sees the goosebumps on his arms, and the way the hair on the back of his neck stands up as he tries to anticipate each descent on his cock, craving the moment when Virgil decides to pull up nearly all the way and slam his tight ass back down. But Virgil wants to take  his time, torturing Remus by playing with his impatience. 

Against his earlobe, Remus whispers "Virgil..." but Virgil ignores him. 

"Focus on your game," Virgil responds, voice just as quiet but tone bitter and smug. It makes Remus pout, but he doesn't say more about it for once.

 Virgil kisses the skin of Remus's neck, dragging his face against Remus's itchy stubble and then brushing his lips over the mustache above Remus's top lip, before kissing him. Remus is a bit clumsy, as his hand jerks suddenly on his controller, but Virgil doesn't care that he's messing Remus up. 

He grinds his hips against Remus's, and both of them groan, which finally earns some louder buzz through Remus's earphones. 

Virgil freezes as he hears louder voices, before watching as Remus glances towards him, and mouths 'what do I tell them?' 

Virgil flushes, and sort of opens his mouth to respond only for no words to come out. It's clear by Remus's wide eyes and amused face that those on the other end have caught on, but to what extent was unknown to him. 

He holds his breath, and listens as Remus teasingly goes "well, how much did you hear?" 

He waits for an answer, before nudging Virgil, as if implying they don't know he's here, meaning it's ultimately up to him whether or not they find out that Remus is doing a little more than "masturbating."

Virgil lifts his hips up, and this time moans as he slams them back down, Remus's cock fucking into his prostate. Once again, the chatter on the headset gets louder and more frantic, as if excited or surprised by Virgil's apparent presence! Remus grins wide, making Virgil's face go red as he imagines what exactly they're saying about him. 

"Don't stop," Remus then urges, running a hand down Virgil's side. "You're providing Janus and Logan with excellent background noise!" 

Whining, Virgil hides his face in Remus's neck, but obediently he lifts his hips again. 

At least he no longer has to put in the work to muffle himself. 

He hears buttons click, and assumes Remus is going back to playing. With his face up against Remus's, right beneath his ear and headphone, he finally hears a semi-clear voice informing Remus that it's incredible he can manage to focus with a toy in his lap. 

Virgil moans at the words, which earn more buzz from the other two, and a soft laugh from Remus. 

"This isn't an excuse for you two to be slacking off," Remus playfully chides, jerking forward due to the exciting nature of the game, jostling Virgil in the process. Virgil cries out at the movement, before sucking in a deep breath. He's got to keep himself focused. Remus isn't going to help fuck him, after all. 

He digs his fingers into Remus's shoulders, giving himself the proper support necessary to began rhythmically pushing himself up, and then roughly slamming himself back down, clenching around Remus's cock as he feels pre ooze into him. 

Shaky moans spill openly from his mouth, and although he's embarrassed he can't help but be the least bit flustered at the words the other two are no doubt saying about him, further amplified by the amused glances Remus gives him every time his headset gets particularly loud. 

Virgil moans loud as Remus's cock slams into his prostate again, and this time he repeatedly drops his hips down in order to aim for that area, only pulling halfway off of Remus's cock before pushing himself back down. 

Remus groans in his ear, and Virgil hears him fumble with his controller. 

One of Virgil's hands slide down Remus's chest, and then down his own front as it lands on his cock. It ruts against Remus's chest, providing him with uncomfortable friction, so Virgil begins to stroke himself to give himself proper pleasure. 

He pants, drool leaking down his chin. 

"Remus," Virgil whispers, as his hips fall once again, pushing Remus's cock deeper and deeper into him. 

"What?" Remus responds, loud as ever. "What's up?" 

Virgil whines. Remus knows. Remus knows full well that he's pushing himself, that he's close and threatening to come at any moment, and he's going to make Virgil admit it and humiliate himself just for the fun of it.

"I'm close."

"Come on, Virgil," Remus urges, grinning wide. "Speak up. I only have one available ear, you know. You're going to have to speak a little louder." 

Virgil whines again, before shakily repeating "I'm close." 

More vibrations emerge from the headphones, no doubt Janus and Logan making their own comments, with certain ones making Remus smile and laugh as Virgil continues to stroke and pump his leaking cock, still fucking himself back on Remus's cock. 

"They're debating whether or not I should let you come," Remus murmurs, making Virgil gasp, before huffing. 

"You- you haven't done anything else," Virgil groans, pre spilling over his fingers. "What makes you think you have that authority?" 

Remus sets the controller down suddenly, leaning forward as he grabs Virgil's hips. Remus pushes their lips against each other in a sloppy kiss, before dragging his teeth over the length of Virgil's jaw and to his ear. 

"What makes you think I don't?" 

"Please!" Virgil cries, as Remus knocks Virgil's hand away and begins stroking Virgil's cock for him, fast and relentless. Virgil struggles to hold back, digging his nails into Remus's shoulder as he sinks down fully on Remus's cock. "Please!" 

"Now you want to beg?" Remus teases, and laughs at how Virgil gasps and moans. 

"Remus!" 

"What? You going to come? While I'm on a call with two of our friends? They're going to hear you make a mess like the pathetic, perverted slut you are. Is that what you want? Huh?" 

Virgil's thighs squeeze around Remus's own, as Remus continues to pump his cock. It's relentless and rough, and after a matter of seconds, Virgil comes over Remus's hand and their chests. He makes a mess of them both, and moans as Remus strokes him through his orgasm, and continues to overstimulate him afterwards. 

It's another minute of Virgil whining and writhing before Remus finally lets his cock go. 

"Alright, guys, I think I'm done for today," Remus then says, fiddling with the mic attached to his headset. "There's another game I'm a little more interested in playing right now." 

He barely gives them time to complain or say bye before he's reaching forward to leave the call from his computer, and then stands, keeping a hand around Virgil's waist to make sure he's properly held and that his own cock stays deep in Virgil's ass. His headset is carelessly tossed onto his desk, as he carries Virgil to the bed, and shamelessly flops them both down onto it. 

Mouth stretched into a toothy grin, Remus's fingers dig into Virgil's pudgy thighs. 

"You ready for a second round?" he asks, teasingly, and Virgil shamelessly nods, already wrapping his arms around Remus's shoulders to keep their bodies close. At least he was finally getting attention. 

Chapter Text

Patton's arms are wrapped around Logan, who's laying on his chest, arms wrapped around him protectively and face buried in Patton's scent glands. Honestly, Patton was still unused to the position, and wanted them to be switched, but upon feeling Patton's body tense, Logan places a few kisses over his neck. 

"Deep breaths," Logan urges, quietly, voice so steady and calm that Patton can't help but listen and suck in some much-needed air. 

"I feel out of place," Patton whispers, as his fingers tangle in the back of Logan's shirt. Logan shushes him softly. 

"I know," Logan says. "I know." 

This was just the first step out of many that Logan has drafted. They knew from the beginning that sex would be difficult when they first got together, but they were willing to work through it. 

Now though, actually doing such is difficult. 

They both agreed Logan would top, but now, as Logan gets ready to, Patton feels shameful. 

He grew in an environment that encouraged his masculinity and put an emphasis on his alpha label, and while he did turn out sensitive and emotional, he was never able to get over the need to be dominant. But he knows Logan likes control, and his desire to please makes it so that he wants Logan to be happy and comfortable. But this comes at the cost of his confidence. 

"We don't have to have sex," Logan then says, as his hand travels down over Patton's arm and to his hand, where their fingers slide against each other. Patton feels Logan's wedding ring, and twists it around Logan's finger absentmindedly. 

Patton shifts his position slightly, holding tighter to Logan. "I want to, I promise," he says, as though he's trying to convince them both. "I've just... I've never been submissive before. I don't know if I'll like it, or be good at it, or-"

"Shh," Logan calms, leaving more kisses over Patton's skin. "You're spiraling. Deep breaths." 

Patton takes in some more air, and exhales a long sigh. 

"I want to," Patton repeats, voice soft. Anxiety and humiliation twists in his gut, but Logan's soft lips and confident, grounding words do a lot to soothe him. 

"I'll guide you," Logan says, as he finally pulls away, letting Patton see his face. 

To any outsider, he'd look emotionless. Apathetic. Cold, and unfeeling. But Patton could see his passion. His determination. His genuine sincerity as he offers to lead Patton through being good and submissive to make sure they both enjoy themselves. 

Logan cups Patton's face. "And if at any point you decide you want to stop, we'll stop. Okay?" 

Patton leans into Logan's hand, soaking in the affection. "Okay." 

Logan gives the smallest of proud smiles as Patton relaxes and seems a bit more comfortable. He kisses Patton on the forehead, pressing their heads together after, and murmuring "such a good boy. Just relax; let me take care of you." He's encouraging, and attempting to talk Patton into a submissive mindset. A difficult feat, for sure, but one that was necessary if he was ever going to enjoy himself. 

He presses his lips against his husband's shortly after, squeezing their hands together to help keep Patton grounded. 

Slowly, Logan pushes his tongue into Patton's mouth, and Patton struggles not to push it out and bite at Logan's lips. But he manages, and instead lets Logan kiss him hard, until Patton can't help but moan. 

He trusts Logan, and he loves him so much, so he sucks in a deep breath when they part in order to further relax his mind and body.  

And he can feel Logan's excitement. 

Truthfully, Logan is utterly ecstatic. He understands why Patton is nervous, of course; he wouldn't want to be topped either. It goes again every instinct he has as an alpha, and he's sure Patton's dealing with that too, so he's sympathetic. But in this instance, he's also simple-minded and overly excited over the idea of finally getting to top him. 

Logan sweetly kisses the side of Patton's face. Quietly, he asks "how do you feel?"

And truthfully, Patton feels shame. He feels disgusting for letting himself be topped, and he feels embarrassed that he isn't the one in control, and yet he feels so excited as Logan's mouth drops lower, breathing over his neck and briefly nuzzling into his scent glands, as if trying to decipher Patton's mood from his pheromones that were unfortunately tainted with arousal. Logan was bad at interpreting the different scents anyway, but feeling him suck in deep, focused breaths makes Patton shiver, more so as his hot breath blows back over his neck. 

"I'm nervous," Patton admits, just as quiet, as he sets his hand in Logan's hair. "But I assume that's obvious." 

Logan kisses his neck, and Patton lets out a soft moan. 

"I want to hold you down against the bed," Logan croons, voice hushed and intimate as he moves back up to rest his lips against Patton's earlobe. "I want to breed you. I want to claim you." 

They've been married for a while, and together for longer. Surely, claiming was the next step, but they both were unsure on how to initiate it. He's not impulsive, either, and Patton isn't a dependent omega who'll appreciate and cling to Logan upon actually being claimed; there's a chance it'll actually bother and upset him, so Logan knows he has to be careful. 

He kisses the side of Patton's face when he gets no response. 

"If you're uncomfortable at all, you can tell me, okay?" Logan says, pulling away so they could make eye contact, and Logan could emphasize the importance of his words. "I don't want you to feel bad when we mate." 

Patton nods, softly saying "okay," and then tilting his head to the side as to invite Logan closer, flushing at Logan's shuddering sigh as he pushes his face back against Patton's scent glands, and then kisses over them. 

Over Patton's shoulders, Logan leaves small kisses and hickeys, easing Patton into being marked, but avoiding his claim spot. He doesn't want to get too intense too quickly, but he works on introducing things slowly. He slides his fingertips beneath Patton's shirt, and begins to push it up. His hands squeeze Patton's pudgy stomach, before trailing further up, and pulling it off. 

Patton's pants come off next, followed by his boxers. 

Logan's seen Patton naked plenty of times, whether that be while changing or in the shower together, but it's different now, and they know that. 

He quickly strips himself down so Patton doesn't feel too vulnerable. 

"Lube?" Logan asks, and watches as Patton finds some in their nightstand to fork over. It's not the same as slick, but it's their only option. 

Lifting Patton's hips, he dumps half the small bottle into Patton's hole, earning a whine of discomfort from Patton, who's unused to the feeling. Logan rubs his thigh to soothe him, and then pulls the bottle away. He lubes up his own fingers, before pushing them into Patton soon after. 

It's a foreign feeling. "Logan," Patton whines, face scrunched up in flustered humiliation, but he's just softly quelled by Logan, who is taking his time stretching Patton out. 

"It'll feel better as soon as I start, I promise," Logan assures him, scissoring his fingers, before slipping in a third. "This is just necessary prep. You know how it goes." 

No, Patton really doesn't. He knows an omega produces slick, and he does not, and experiencing this strange lubricated sensation is making him feel conflicted. He's excited, but to some extent he's ashamed of his excitement, and feels brief embarrassment over the fact that he's not the one doing this to Logan. 

But, as if Logan senses his thoughts, he's promptly kissed, and at some point Logan's lips against his own become too distracting for him to fully focus on his thoughts. 

Why worry about those when he can just feel Logan? 

"Good boy," Logan soothes, kissing Patton's lips again, and then pulling his fingers out. He wipes the excess lube against his cock, and uses up the rest of the small bottle to properly coat it. 

"Okay, Patton," Logan starts, as he scoots closer and wraps Patton's thighs around his waist. "Deep breaths, okay? Trust me. I'll take care of you, I promise." 

The tip of his cock presses against Patton's hole, which has Patton whining. Initially, Patton's hands dig into the sheets, but as soon as Logan notices he's guiding Patton's arms to his shoulders instead, wordlessly encouraging him to scratch at his back and hold tight to him. Their bodies are pressed close.

Slowly, Logan pushes in, and they both groan together. 

Patton's nails do indeed claw into Logan's back in such a way that Logan can't help but growl, low and intimidating, and surprisingly, Patton whimpers in response. 

But before he can even feel embarrassed about that, Logan's kissing his neck, crooning "good boy. Good boy," on repeat, until Patton's fingers are flexing against Logan's shoulders, torn between scratching him and squeezing him. He just needs to be holding Logan, the same way Logan's hands are holding tightly to his hips. 

Logan pushes his cock into Patton until his knot rests just outside of his hole. He doesn't slide it inside, and can already see it beginning to swell. 

He knows that if he pushes it into Patton near or during his orgasm, he'll lock them together, and as much as he wants that, he's not sure Patton does. That would be a conversation and a decision for another day, after both of them were more experienced with each other, and after Patton was properly content with being Logan's sub. 

"There, see?" Logan softly says, as he rubs his face against Patton's neck, mixing their scents together. "You took me so easily. You're such a good boy." 

He's panting already, which Patton listens closely to. It's animalistic, pure, shuddering in each intake of air. Goosebumps form over Patton's arms. 

"Let me mark you up?" Logan then asks, speaking breathily into Patton's ear. "I won't claim you yet, I just- let me mark you." 

He sounds like he's whining, pleading for Patton's permission, until Patton's hand tangles in his hair, earning another soft growl. 

"Sure," Patton eventually says, breathlessly. "Just..." 

Logan kisses him before he can finish his statement, reaffirming afterwards "I promise I won't claim you until we're both ready. That can be left for another day." He rubs over Patton's hips comfortingly with his hands, further working to soothe Patton until he feels Patton is relaxed. 

Then, he's pushing his mouth against Patton's collarbones, licking over the skin before sucking a dark mark over it. Patton whines. 

"Logan," he whimpers, but Logan shushes him. 

"A few more," Logan begs, quietly. "Just a few more. Please." And Patton doesn't stop him. 

Logan kisses up and down Patton's collarbones, sucking dark purple hickeys into the skin until he feels it's properly covered. Even afterwards though, he nips at the fat on Patton's chest, and brings a hand up to gently rub his pointer and his middle finger over Patton's scent glands, letting out a shaky breath before he forces himself to pull away. He's tempting himself, and he shouldn't.  

His glasses slide part way down his nose as he observes his handiwork, admiring the look of Patton properly marked up, with dark marks trailing up Patton's hairy cleavage to just below his neck, as Logan didn't want to risk making Patton uncomfortable by getting too close to his scent glands. 

Patton's face is bright red, and his nails very lightly caress Logan's back as he softly urges Logan to move. 

"Don't tease me," Patton begs, though he knows that Logan is only giving him time to get used to the feeling. He's never had anything else inside of him, after all. "I need to feel you moving."

Logan nods, immediately understanding.

Slowly, he pulls his cock out of Patton's slick hole, before thrusting back in hard and quick. 

Both he and Patton moan at the feeling, as Logan bends down to tuck his face into Patton neck. He takes in a deep breath, senses filled by the overpowering smell of Patton's arousal. Muttering soft praises, he thrusts his hips again, giving only a brief respite in between his movements, and enjoying the shaky whines he gets in response. 

"Do you feel good?" Logan asks, kissing over Patton's neck, moving up over his jaw. "Come on, Patton, tell me you feel good. My good sub." His voice is steady and grounding, and Patton finds himself moaning again as he focuses on it. 

Logan's so confident. Logan knows what to do. 

"I feel- I feel good," Patton whispers, just loud enough Logan to hear. "You make me feel good." Patton feels Logan's lips quirk into a smile against his jaw. 

"Good. That's my job as your alpha." He kisses Patton's cheek, digging his fingers hard into Patton's fat love handles as he resists the urge to shove himself balls deep and lock them together for the night. His nice, obedient sub. His nice tight omega. Even if Patton didn't smell like one, he still smelled good. And he didn't smell afraid, which was relieving to the more hesitant part of Logan that's been occupied with watching Patton for any uncomfortable quirks or subtle notions that he's not having fun. 

"I always want to make you feel good," Logan murmurs, rubbing his cheek against Patton's. 

Logan's hand slides up Patton's legs, and then to his cock, which he squeezes and strokes slowly. Patton's hole clenches tightly around him when he does, letting out a hiss between his teeth that has Logan softly speaking again. 

"I've got you," Logan croons, kissing Patton's cheek, and the corner of his lips. "You're so good for me. Just relax. Submit. I've got you." 

He's firm and consistent. That's all Patton needs. Firm words and consistency. 

Patton hugs Logan closer, whining and grabbing where he can, holding tight to Logan in order to feel further grounded and floaty and good. Like the good sub Logan praises him for being. "Please," he mumbles, voice quaking as unintelligible words slip past his lips. "Please." 

Logan pants heavily in response, small groans and growls escaping him as he fucks hard into Patton, mumbling between thrusts "I'm going to breed you full," and "you'll look so good filled with my pups." 

The tip of his cock thrusts against Patton's prostate, earning a sudden, loud cry from Patton's lips, drool dripping down his chin. His nails press into Logan's pale skin, leaving his own marks over Logan's back and shoulders that sting in the best way possible. 

Logan moans in response, and repeatedly fucks his cock into Patton's prostate, his knot pressing against Patton's hole threateningly with each thrust, as though it might be shoved in too if Logan gets too carried away. Hand curling tightly around the base of Patton's cock, Logan squeezes it roughly, drawing a desperate whine from Patton's mouth as Logan's fingers slide up and down, overwhelming Patton with a plethora of new experiences all mixing together into one intense night of intimacy.

"Logan," Patton pleads, body hot and face flushed. He's gasping. "Logan, please!" 

"Go ahead and come, Patton," Logan instructs, pressing his lips to Patton's. "Show me how good you feel. Go on." 

Patton falls apart easily in Logan's hold, coming in just a few more strokes, punctuated with a final few thrusts against his prostate. Logan kisses him repeatedly during and after, and groans as his nose is assaulted by comforting, happy, relaxed pheromones. 

He comes a few thrusts later with Patton clenching around him, luckily managing to keep his swollen knot outside of Patton's hole, and instead pressing against it, but he does hold Patton close and tightly as he pumps him full. 

Both of them breathe heavily afterwards, and out of instinct Logan doesn't pull out for a few minutes, until his little alpha brain is satisfied with the notion that Patton's been bred full. 

Afterwards, he lays beside him, and holds Patton against his chest. 

"Feel good?" Logan asks him, after, and feels the way Patton's fingers slowly slide over the small of his back, as though he's teetering on the edge of consciousness and is forcing himself to stay awake for Logan's benefit. 

"Mhmm." 

Logan runs his hand through Patton's hair, combing through it gently. "Good. You did so good. I love you." 

"Mmm mm mmm." Patton's voice is muffled by Logan's chest, but Logan understands the sound nonetheless, and quickly slides both of their glasses off before cuddling Patton closer, and holding him tightly as they both fall asleep. 

Chapter Text

"Ugh- Janus, you don't have to be so rough," Logan complains, as Janus drags him down the hallway with a tight hand around Logan's wrist. While Janus walks in long strides, Logan's a lot slower, wanting more time to question what they were doing. "Surely, whatever you want me to do can wait."

"Remus is impatient," comes Janus's quick response.

"Oh. So we're doing something with Remus, then?" Logan adjusts his glasses with his free hand. "If this is another sexual situation, may I remind you I was just shrunken down less than a month ago, and while digestion was certainly a unique experience, I'm quite satisfied on that front for now." Janus tightens his grip on Logan's wrist, making Logan frown. "Honestly, Janus, I have important stuff to do. I can't be a toy again for the next few hours simply because you and Remus wish it so."

Janus comes to a stop outside of his bedroom door.

"You'll gain a new experience out of it," Janus purrs, turning to face Logan and gently gripping his chin, patronizingly wiggling Logan's head back and forth. "You won't be the one getting swallowed this time. How would you like to be the one doing the swallowing?"

Logan momentarily looks interested, before scrunching his nose up in sudden disgust. "Has Remus bathed recently?"

That has Janus chuckling. "This morning. I told him you wouldn't agree otherwise. And don't worry; I made sure he was completely clean."

Logan's silent for a moment, before contemplating Janus's offer. To some extent, it was truly enticing. Surely, digesting a fellow side - and one that squirms - feels much different as opposed to eating still, inanimate food.

Finally, Logan hums. "Well, I don't really have much reason to decline now, do I?"

Janus smiles, and then pulls Logan into the room, shutting the door gently behind them. They're both immediately greeted with the sight of Remus laying in a slutty position across the bed. Well, across the pillows, more accurately.

Due to his current size, he looked like a little bug nestled in the center of an off-white pillow. From this distance, Logan honestly couldn't decipher whether Remus was on his stomach or on his back!

From what Logan can assume, Remus was going to find a way to get swallowed by someone regardless of what Logan's answer was.

He looks excited when he sees Logan, though, and lets Janus scoop him up into his palm.

"Yes! I'm so glad he agreed!" Remus claps his hands together giddily, sitting on his knees nude and unashamed as Janus moves him closer to Logan. "Did you use the line about new experiences? I knew that would convince him!"

"Hush," Janus suddenly says, wiggling his hand slightly and causing Remus to fall over. "Or I'll get the fly swatter."

Remus grins wide.

With his free hand, Janus pushes Logan back onto the bed, and then carelessly slides into his lap. Logan sets a hand on Janus's thigh, but flushes at Janus's casualty, and his carelessness when it comes to sliding his ass over Logan's crotch.

Playing with Remus, Janus effortlessly flips him over, rolls him around, and then eventually has him seized by his by his ankles.

"Open wide," Janus instructs Logan, setting a hand on Logan's neck in order to push his head back.

"Already?" Logan asks, face red. "At least Remus played with me first before you gulped me down."

Janus deadpans. "I'm not shoving Remus down my cocks just so you can give me head."

Logan squeaks, frazzled "that's not-"

Janus shoves his fingers into Logan's mouth, and forcibly opens it up, making Logan gag. Tears fill his eyes as Janus carelessly pushes the pads against Logan's tongue, and then drives them deeper down his throat, until drool begins to slide out the corner of Logan's lips.

Finally, Janus pulls his hand away, and looks at Logan smugly, as if daring him to keep complaining. Logan doesn't, and instead keeps his mouth obediently open.

As Janus drags his slick fingers over Logan's cheek, coating it with Logan's own spit, he mocking says "good boy." Logan's embarrassed at how excited those two words make him.

Remus squeals as Janus lifts him up, dangling him threateningly over Logan's mouth.

Pinching Logan's tongue with his fingers, Janus promptly pulls it out past Logan's lips, and lets out a pleased hum when Logan keeps it there.

Logan's eyes are crossed as he tries to focus on Remus's tiny form dangling just a few inches above his mouth, already looking dampened by Logan's hot breath fanning over his body. He's flushed from the blood rushing to his head, but seems excited. Of course he'd be.

Without so much as a warning, Remus is being unceremoniously dropped onto Logan's tongue.

Remus hits the moist, squishy surface with a moan, and is brought into Logan's mouth quickly. Curiously, Logan's tongue runs over Remus's body, and then sucks down the saliva pooling in his mouth, as if trying to completely savor the taste.

Logan swishes Remus's small form carelessly side to side in his mouth, before mumbling "'s weird."

Janus lets out a closed mouth laugh, before pushing Logan's back against the bed.

"Swallow him," Janus encourages, moving his lips to Logan's throat. "I want to watch his small form wiggle as he makes his way to your stomach. I loved feeling you as you slid down, after all, but Remus seemed to enjoy the visual too."

Logan bites back an embarrassed moan, before he leans his head back against the mattress, and gulps.

He has to suppress the urge to gag as Remus's solid form tumbles to the back of his mouth, but can't help but shiver at the feeling of Remus's writhing body finally sliding down his tight throat.

He hears a muffled scream of delight that's abruptly cut off as Remus is swallowed properly down.

Janus pushes down on Logan's throat with his fingers as the outline of Remus's wiggling body visibly slides down Logan's throat, sinking further, and further, until it disappears and Logan shifts with surprise.

"I feel him in my stomach."

Janus snickers. "Strange, isn't it? You were squirming just as much, but your poor body was also incredibly overstimulated. He's still got a lot of energy, which is a good thing considering he's got a limited amount of time to get off before your stomach acid begins to digest him."

Janus presses on Logan's stomach, making Logan whine, before Janus is crawling properly over Logan, pulling his clothes off until he's spread out against the bed nude, while Remus is tossed around carelessly with each movement of Logan's body.

As Janus manhandles Logan, Remus is thrusted against the inner walls of Logan's stomach, and then sent splashing back into the tingling stomach acid that Remus giggles about every time he's thrown into.

But, he knows that it's only a matter of time before he's melted into sludge and respawned in the mindscape tomorrow, so he has to make the most of right now.

Remus immediately wraps his hand around his cock, getting on his hands and knees in order to submerge as much of his body as possible - including his cock - in Logan's digestive fluids. He loves the pleasant tingling sensation (even if he wishes it was more painful), and makes quick work of rubbing himself off.

He's panting, tongue out despite the bitter acid being flung around everywhere, sweating badly within the hot and humid space. 

His cock squirts a steady stream of pre, but he doesn't even notice as it all immediately mixes in with every other liquid present. His body stings, and he adores it. 

Logan moves - or is moved - again, onto his stomach now, sending Remus rolling through the acid and coating his body fully in it. He breaks the surface of the liquid with a dramatic gasp and a moan, before trudging through it to one of Logan's inner, squishy walls. He presses his hands against the moist surface, and then begins to hump against it, dragging his cock along the slick surface and moaning at the feeling. 

Logan whines. "I can feel him pushing on my stomach." 

Janus huffs out a laugh, as he leans over Logan's back, his own lubed cocks pressing teasingly against Logan's awaiting hole. "Push back." 

Logan does. He keeps one arm against the pillows so he can tuck his face into it, but the other pushes against his lower stomach, and as his fingers sink into the fat, they rub against a squirming, solid mass. The mass rubs back. 

Logan's moan reverberates throughout his body, consuming Remus in a loud-but-muffled echo that he can't help but groan at, thrusting wildly against the mushy walls. 

More acid sloshes around him, consuming him up to his knees and causing him to lose his footing and once more fall into the acidic sludge. Remus chokes, and thrashes, forcing his body upwards and out of the fluid. 

"Pl-lease," he gasps, hand squelching as it wraps around his rapidly melting cock. 

Quickly being reduced into nothing but sludge, Remus knows his time is limited. He watched Logan be quickly and steadily digested in Janus's stomach. Though he's aware that Logan had significantly less energy to keep himself above the acid after one last orgasm, he also knows that Janus recalled feeling his presence dissipate in less than an hour, and the next morning Logan could hardly even recall being present within Janus's stomach for more than ten minutes. 

Panting heavily, Remus fucks his cock into his tight fist, mimicking the way Janus was thrusting his cocks into Logan's hole. Each snap of his hips caused Logan to shift forward and then rock back, him and Janus moving inversely to each other, and still meeting in the middle with wet,  harsh slaps. It made it harder for Remus to grab his footing, and so had to resort to just relying on his hand. 

His nipples burned both from the sensitivity he was feeling, but also the fact he was dissolving. He quickly brings his thumb and pointer to one of his nipples to pinch and rub at it before its melted off his body. 

"He's- he's slowing," Logan moans, as Janus nips at his earlobe. 

"Of course he is," Janus pants, as one of his arms wrap around Logan's torso to push against Logan's fat stomach. "He's being digested. Unfortunately, I doubt he's worth much nutrients." 

Logan would roll his eyes if they weren't already rolling back into his head. 

Remus opens his mouth to moan, and gets another disgusting mouthful of acid that he greedily swallows down, now feeling the erosion of his guts internally. He was so- so close. Momentarily, he feels like this went by too fast. He wish he could have spent more time sinking down Logan's throat. Perhaps while Janus was choking him, making his trip even tighter. Or even here within Logan's stomach. 

Maybe- maybe if he talked to Logan after this, Logan would be willing to change the structure of his digestive system in order to accommodate this. They weren't real, after all. Logan didn't have to have stomach acid. But fuck Remus was glad he did. 

More fingers push at him from outside, once again flipping him round and round until he no longer tries to move at all. Sunk deep beneath the gurgling liquid, Remus doesn't bother holding his breath, and instead lets the stomach acid eat away at his hot body as he sloppily strokes himself, growing nearer and nearer to his orgasm, before finally coming with a little less than an inaudible cry, and then letting his body fully submit to Logan's stomach. 

Logan cries out, equally pleased, both as Janus thrusts the tips of his cocks against his prostate, but also as he feels Remus completely stop moving. 

"Oh- oh my-!" Logan stammers, tangling his fingers in the bedsheets. "He's not- he's not- ahh!" 

Janus promptly shoves Logan's face into the bedsheets via a hand in his slick black hair, muffling any of Logan's words, and barely allowing his lewd noises to slip through. 

With his chest pressed against the bed and ass in the air, Logan could only whine as Janus used him for his own pleasure, seemingly just as into this idea as Remus was, though for a completely different reason. And Remus- well, Logan stopped feeling him moving minutes ago, but still presses on his stomach while Janus's hand moves down to his cock. 

The fact that Remus was now nothing but sludge inside of him - similarly to how Logan was nothing but the same within Janus - pleased Logan to an unnerving degree. What a strange thing to be excited over, and yet his cock spurts thick blobs of pre as he thinks about Remus having melted to death within him (even if his death was not permanent, though that fact just meant that this process could be repeated as many times as they'd like). 

Janus grunts as he squeezes and strokes Logan's shaft, leaning over him as Logan's hole clenches around his own cocks, grinding them against each other as they continue to thrust. Janus grows increasingly sloppy, but neither of them care. 

Something unintelligible is cried by Logan against the pillows, but Janus just pushes him deeper into the bed. 

Logan comes moments later with another loud sound of pleasure, tearing up as Janus strokes him through his orgasm, and then lets himself relax and go limp as Janus finishes up inside of him. He holds tight to Logan's hair as he comes, almost pulling it with how rough he's gripping it, before Janus is letting go and pulling both away and out, letting himself lean back on his knees as Logan's hips finally fall to the mattress. 

Panting, Logan presses down on his stomach again, before flipping over so he can grope at it. 

"I digested him. Fuck... Janus..." 

Janus waves him off. "Get over it; you're not special. You're not the only side to have digested another." He sounds annoyed, but his lips quirk up in a playful smile, so much so that Logan finally rolls his eyes before waving Janus closer. 

"I'm serious. I'm surprised you weren't more weirded out at this when you'd tried it with me." 

Janus shrugs. "It's the same as eating food. Just very hyperactive food. He tasted good, didn't he?" 

Logan makes a face, as Janus slides between his legs. A quick push to his thighs has Logan spreading them obediently, allowing Janus to dip his face between them. 

"He didn't taste disgusting."

"You tasted amazing." Janus's lips press against Logan's thigh, before there's a mischievous quirk in his voice as he continues with "and I feel left out. Don't you want to know how I taste?" 

It's clearly a rhetorical question, as moments later Logan feels Janus's forked tongue digging into his hole, licking around his insides, which earns a shaky, tired moan from Logan who gently massages his stomach while his cock twitches in interest. In order to oblige by his arousal, he wraps his hand lazily around it, and strokes in tandem with his presses into his gut. 

He feels it gurgle, and once again imagines Remus's body mixed into the acidic slurry. 

Janus's tongue wriggles deeper, licking over his inner walls, before it suddenly slides out with a wet pop. As he raises his head, Logan sees Janus's own semen smeared over his lips and chin, and plenty more no doubt stores past his lips. Seeing the man so messy was typically uncommon, and so Logan makes quick work of memorizing his flushed, slick face, and stores it in the back of his mind for a rainy day. 

Despite his red face, Logan obediently opens his mouth as Janus leans over him, and lets Janus kiss him with bitter, salty lips. Janus's fluids are exchanged between their mouth, mixed in each other's spit before Logan's pulling his head back to swallow. Janus kisses his throat as he does. 

With a few soft moans, and gentle encouragement from Janus, Logan comes over his hand. 

"I'm not tasting you again," Janus states, eyeing the new mess with narrowed eyelids, as he slides off the bed to fetch a nearby towel. He wipes his own face and mouth off first and foremost, before finally cleaning Logan's thighs and hand in turn. The mess inside of him will have to wait until tomorrow, as Janus wasn't willing to clean him out fully, but neither of them cared to complain. 

Then, Janus is throwing a blanket over the two of them, and holding Logan from behind, replacing Logan's hand when it comes to rubbing his stomach, feeling firsthand the gurgles that come from his gut as his stomach works on fully digesting it's contents. 

Janus smiles as he presses his lips to the back of Logan's neck, helping soothe him into a nice afternoon nap before closing his eyes himself, enjoying the warmth Logan's soft body provides, and the fact that they'll probably be doing this again really, really soon. 

Chapter Text

Waking up beside Logan wasn't entirely unfamiliar. 

Plenty nights Janus would stay curled up in Logan's warm hold. He was firm and rather still as he slept, allowing Janus to cuddle deep into his chest and rub against him. 

But Logan woke up far earlier than Janus did, and so every morning Janus would wake to an empty bed. He'd still be wrapped tightly in Logan's comforter, but he always felt considerably more cold with the space next to him being empty. 

And typically, Logan would already be downstairs. 

But, waking up while Logan's still in the room, changing, was a completely different story. 

And as Janus blinks away, he can't help but stare as Logan pulls his shirt off. He's incredibly quiet as he changes - though Janus is unsure of whether that's just his natural state, or if he's being considerate of Janus's sleeping state - but he looks just as tired as Janus. Probably because he hasn't had his morning coffee yet. 

Logan grabs a spare shirt from his drawer, and turns to face the bed as he prepares to put it on. 

Janus audibly gasps, which has Logan pausing, shirt wrapped around his forearms but not yet dragged over his head and chest. 

"Oh," Logan breathes, staring at Janus's cozy form. "I didn't wake you, did I?" 

Janus lets out a soft, breathy laugh. "No, you didn't. I woke on my own. But after seeing your appealing torso, I'm considerably more alert."

"Weird way to say you like my chest." 

Janus smiles wide, and Logan can't help but smile too. He pushes his shirt off his arms, and keeps it held in one hand as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss Janus, who finally breaks free of the warm blankets in order to lean upwards and kiss Logan back. 

Despite normally struggling so much to get himself out of bed each morning, Janus finds that right now it's the easiest thing he's ever done. He only slight has to resist the temptation to pull Logan down on top of him! Slowly, he moves to push himself up, pressing his lips firmly against Logan's as he lets his hands trail up Logan's thighs, where they gently rub and squeeze for a bit, before he's finally moving to Logan's hips, swiftly pulling Logan right into his lap within the blink of an eye.

Logan lets out a small noise of surprise at the sudden shift, pulling away from the kiss with a small huff of laughter. 

"Now, if this is how you react to seeing me shirtless, I'm probably lucky that you typically don't wake up this early." His voice is teasing, but Janus still frowns at the comment, running his hands over Logan's chubby sides. 

"You say that like it's my fault," Janus complains, bitterly. "You're the one who has such a gorgeous body, and instead of flaunting it, you've decided to hide it instead!" Janus kisses Logan's collarbone. "Do you expect me to not react like this?" 

Logan opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn't get the chance before Janus is slowly sliding his hands over Logan's chest, causing Logan to gasp instead. 

"May I?" 

Logan flushes at the question, but clears his throat as he attempts to respond with a steady "sure." It makes Janus chuckle. 

His thumbs brush over Logan's nipples, and he gets to watch as Logan brings his knuckles to his mouth in order to muffle an embarrassingly loud moan. 

"Sensitive tits?" Janus asks, teasingly, which has Logan sucking in a shaky breath. 

"Seems that way."

Janus rubs his thumbs harder against the buds, and watches Logan bite into his knuckles, eyes squeezing shut at the small amounts of friction he's receiving. Tears form behind Logan's glasses, and Logan lets out a shuddering breath. 

Then, Janus is pulling his hands away, and moving his head closer instead. His forked tongue slides over Logan's chest, before rolling over Logan's nipple. Logan almost immediately cries out at the feeling, as his hands grip Janus's hair, both trying to push Janus's head away and simultaneously hold him closer.

His back is arched, pushing his chest further against Janus's mouth, which closes fully around Logan's nipple. 

Janus's eyes are pressed lightly shut, enjoying the rather tedious action of sucking and licking, and the way it's causing Logan to react so pathetically. Logan's fingers scratch his scalp, lightly tugging his hair as he tries to pull Janus away, only for Janus to hold Logan's torso tighter in turn, keeping him as close as possible. 

"Janus!" Logan moans, as Janus's sharp fangs graze the sensitive bud. Tears roll down his flushed cheeks as he squirms, feeling so pathetically sensitive as Janus does the bare minimum. 

Finally, Janus pulls away, disconnecting from Logan's areola with a loud, dramatic pop, leaving just a string of spit connecting his lips to Logan's chest.  

Immediately, Logan's hands are moving to cover his chest, hiding his sensitive nipples from Janus in a desperate bid to protect them. Janus merely laughs at the action, and though he presses his head against Logan's chest as if he's hugging him, he tilts his head upwards so he can lock eyes with Logan. 

"That's so cute," Janus murmurs, and watches Logan's eyes narrow before he turns his head away. 

"Pulling on my shirt is going to be a pain now." 

Janus laughs. "Aw! Too sensitive?" 

Logan huffs. "I'm serious. It's going to be extremely suspicious if I'm constantly pulling my shirt away from my chest all day. The others are going ask what's going on!" 

"Then don't put your shirt back on." Janus kisses over Logan's collarbone, before sliding his hands under Logan's, pushing them away from his torso and showing off his chest, and newfound puffy red nipples clearly irritated after Janus's thumbs and tongue have messed around with them.

Janus doesn't touch them outright again, and instead gently pushes Logan back against the bed, while he leans over him. 

He shivers the moment the blankets fall from his body, and though he's wearing pajamas, the loss of any heat at all is devastating for someone cold-blooded. Especially if that person is dramatic. 

"You could just stay in your room today," Janus adds, cupping Logan's fat tits and squeezing them, making Logan hiss as he's groped, before Janus's hands travel downwards to briefly grope at the rest of Logan's pudgy body. His fat stomach is grabbed, his chubby thighs pinched, and his hips properly appreciated. Then, Janus's hands slide back up his chest. 

"You want me to spend all day couped up in here?"

"With me."

Logan stares at Janus. "All day couped up in here, with you." 

"Yes." Janus presses a few sparse kisses over Logan's chest, before his mouth travels dangerously close to Logan's nipple, making Logan's chest tense as he prepares to grab Janus's hair and pull him away at any moment. Janus can feel each little movement of Logan's body; each little jolt as Janus's lips press over his skin, before Janus is pulling away. "We could have a little fun." 

Logan narrows his eyes, as his hands hold onto Janus's wrists, both keeping Janus's hands from wandering any further while also trying to ground himself. "You and I have very definitions of fun." 

"There's some overlap," Janus retorts, with a charming smile. "Trust me. You'll get some enjoyment out of it." 

Janus's fingers inch closer to Logan's areolas again, making Logan chew his inner cheek, before sighing. "Okay," he replies, as the pads of Janus's index fingers swipe over Logan's erect nipples, making him briefly whimper. "Just be gentle." 

Janus nods, though he has no intention of obliging. Logan knows he doesn't, and happily resigns himself to being played with as roughly as Janus would like to. 

Hands slithering up Logan's torso, the first thing Janus does is immediately go back to pressing his thumbs against Logan's nipples, once more rubbing over them feverishly, musing at Logan's immediate cry. 

Logan's back arches off the bed as his hands come to grab Janus's, but his actions don't deter Janus in the slightest as Janus continues pinching and rubbing almost painfully at the sensitive buds until Logan's all teary eyed and moaning, body shuddering when Janus finally decides to grant him a brief respite. 

But it's only because Janus is eyeing Logan curiously. Under his breath, he utters "I wonder..." before Logan watches as Janus shoves his own pajama pants and boxers down, before crawling atop Logan's lap. He scoots up further, so he's more so sitting on Logan's stomach, before leaning over and setting one hand near Logan's head to help steady himself, while his other hand curls around one of Logan's tits, squeezing it firmly as he aims his half hard cocks at the nipple, before rocking his hips and thrusting his shafts over Logan's sensitive chest. 

The tip of his cock bumps repeatedly against Logan's nipple, pushing the two together. Pre spills over Logan's chest, leaving glistening streaks over his torso, as Janus groans at the friction between them, while Logan lets out the cutest of moans as his chest is overwhelmed by Janus's cocks and fingers, both of which target one of his nipples, torturing them with thrusts and pinches until Logan's all teary eyed. 

"Crying, Logan?" Janus teases, the moment he sees a tear roll down Logan's cheek. "Feel that good?" Janus interrupts himself with a moan of his own as he spreads his cocks, before pushing them together, pinching Logan's nipple between them. Logan cries at the action. 

Janus huffs out a laugh at him, before tilting his head back to glance at Logan's legs. Clear through his boxers is his hard cock, which is straining and staining the fabric with pre, noticeably erect and desperate for any sort of friction.

Upon seeing such, Janus grins. "I wonder if you could come just from me playing with your chest." 

"Please!" Logan begs, spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth as he pleads. His face is a mess of cascading tears and sweat, so prominent that his hair is slicked to his forehead. "Please, at least- at least touch me a little!" 

"I am touching you." 

Logan's eyes twitch, but any of his frustration reserved for Janus taking his words literally instead of understanding his otherwise quite clear implications is quickly melted away by Janus roughly twisting his nipple, making him gasp and moan at the pain before whimpering as he turns his head to the side. 

Still though, Janus isn't cruel, and as fun as it is to tease him, Janus decides to adjust his position slightly so that he can keep one hand on Logan's crotch, massaging and grinding his palm down against Logan's moist bulge, while his other is on Logan's chest to help keep him steady. 

It's admittedly not the most comfortable position, with Janus having to lean back slightly while still thrusting his hips forward against Logan's chest, but he makes it work. 

Logan takes the opportunity to cover the areola Janus had been previously teasing with his hand, clasping it hard over his chubby breast, and resigning his other tit to being just a pad for Janus to relentlessly drag his cocks over, punishing the poor, straining nipple that's being rubbed between Janus's slick shafts. 

That, paired with Janus currently roughly running his hand over Logan's clothed cock has him an unintelligible mess. Even his desperate pleas of it being "too much" are lost between his louder cries of pleasure.

And Janus can't help but laugh softly at this situation, between his own pleased panting. 

"How am I supposed to keep my hands off your chest when you're going to act like this?" he asks, eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts his cocks against Logan's nipple again, earning a cutely oversensitive cry. "Every time I see you, I'm just going to picture running my hands up your shirt and playing with your chest like it was intended to be played with." 

Logan moans, trying to roll his hips up into Janus's hand, as Janus tries to move his body between the two angles. His cocks rutting against Logan's chest, his hand against Logan's cock, back and forth until Logan's coming pathetically quickly. 

He makes a mess into his boxers with a slew of slurred sounds, pure gibberish spilling in short cries before his body falls limp against the mattress, aside from a few jolts reserved for when Janus continues to hump against his chest. Graciously, though, he pulls his hand away from Logan's cock, wiping the damp moisture of his hand on the bed but leaving Logan's sticky boxers still on his body. 

A few more thrusts against Logan's puffy nipple has him coming, spraying streams of come over Logan's unprepared face, streaking over his glasses, and leaving his entire head and shoulders a sweaty, smeared mess. 

Both of them pant, before Logan is half-heartedly wiping his cheek off. 

"You're right," he breathes, as he weakly pushes Janus's body down his body, just enough for him to move to protect his other nipple from further assault. "I did have fun." 

Janus glances back at Logan's ruined boxers. "I can tell." 

"Help me to the bath." 

"A nice, warm, bubble bath?" Janus inquires, as he carefully slides off of Logan and picks him up carefully, momentarily adjusting their position so he doesn't drop the latter, before carrying him to the bath tub, where he'll take proper care of Logan and his beautiful, sensitive boobs. 

Chapter Text

"I don't remember ordering a package," Remus mumbles, scratching at his stubble as he leans in the doorway of his house. He's staring at a box placed at the front door, addressed to him, but the contents unknown. 

Sure, Janus often has things shipped to their house - they are roommates after all - but he puts his name on those packages, and gets rather pissy when Remus snoops inside of them, claiming "that's illegal" and that he'll "send Remus to the pound" if he does it again.

Perhaps this was something Remus has ordered while drunk, and simply forgot. That's happened more than once, after all. 

He grins and grabs the package, so delighted with himself that he basically skips inside. Sure, he may not remember what's in here, but he's looking at this situation like it's a nice, surprising gift! Anything could be in here, and Remus had quite the vivid imagination, which meant this box delighted him immensely. 

The mere thought that this could be anything from a bomb to a basic tee-shirt entertains his hyperactive mind as he tosses the box onto the couch, and then falls onto it after, laying on his stomach as his sharp nails dig into the packing tape. 

Effortlessly, he pokes his finger through the material, and then slices it open, gathering up and then tossing the sticky strips carelessly to the floor, knowing he'll probably get an earful for making a mess when Janus gets home from grocery shopping.  Then, he's opening the box up.

 Inside is a thick, black plug, and a small remote folded within an equally minute packet of instructions printed in small, hard-to-read lettering. Immediately, Remus is whooping as he rolls onto the floor, barely stunned by his back hitting the ground as he rushes to dig the plug out of the packing peanuts and set the remote on the table.

"Man, I sure do love spoiling myself!" he exclaims excitedly, congratulating himself on his unplanned purchase. 

Tipping the remote over, he slides the back open and checks it for batteries, only to see a plug instead. At the bottom of the box is a small charging cord. Remus hums as he stands and brings his new toy to his room, immediately sitting near an outlet and plugging the remote in. He lets it charge until a small light on the remote glows blue, where he's hitting what he presumes to be the "on" button (a big button in the center, with two smaller ones below and above it).

Immediately, the plug starts buzzing with intense vibrations, making Remus squeal. He grabs the plug with his hand, holding it as he takes his time hitting the small button on top until the plug seems to reach its max intensity, and then doing the same thing with the lower button until the plug stops vibrating at all. It seems to have a wide range of vibrations that have Remus kicking his feet with anticipation.

"Thank you, Past Me, for surprising Present Me with a lovely little toy!" Remus babbles out loud, already shimmying his clothes off. He mumbles a silly response to himself of "you're welcome, Present Me. Aren't I a genius?"

His shirt and pants discarded, Remus is quick to reach toward his nightstand and feel around for lube, which he's quick to pop open once he finds. He doesn't care that he's still seated on his floor; all he cares about is pouring an excessive amount of lube on the toy and then picking it up, bending down to be on his forearms and knees as he teasingly drags the plug between his cheeks.

He leaves a trail of lube between his crack, before he slowly pushes the toy into his hole, moaning loudly as he feels himself stretch around it. He's sexual enough normally that he didn't bother to finger himself open beforehand, but this plug makes him feel pleasantly full, especially after Remus pushes it in up to its base.

Moaning obscenely loud, Remus lets his face push against the floor, working the plug slowly in and out of him just to tease himself, before he pushes it in fully and then lets it go.

It fills him up so nicely, and as he sits back on his calves he can't help but slap his own ass and grin. Damn, he's sexy.

The plug seemingly fits perfectly inside of him, or so he'd claim, but the plug itself isn't that exciting on its own. What really delights him is the remote that came with it, of which Remus is eager to grab and click on.

Immediately, medium vibrations are pleasuring his ass, making him squirm happily as he pushes his chest against the floor, presenting his ass into the air.

His door is wide open, but he's home alone, so his noises of pleasure echo throughout the house.

His thumb caresses the remote as he debates between flicking it as high as it can go, or lowering the vibrations and edging himself just to be a tease.

Finally, he settles on raising it a bit, and then sitting back on his knees, groaning as he messes with the plug. He pulls it out just enough for the widest part of the plug to stretch around his hole, and then pushes it back in deep, clenching around the toy as he fidgets with it until he can feel it pressing against his prostate. Violent vibrations torture the bundle of nerves, making him cry out a sultry "oh, fuck!" followed by a loud and nasally moan.

That just so happens to be the noise Janus is greeted with as he opens their front door.

He can't really feel anything but amusement and a sense of pride as he listens to Remus no doubt play with the toy he bought. After all, he'd gotten the alert that his package was delivered this morning, and it isn't on the porch waiting for him. But why would it be? He'd addressed it to Remus, after all.

Janus sets his groceries down on the kitchen floor, directing them towards the counter with his foot before he shamelessly struts to Remus's room, not surprised to find the door wide open.

Smugly, he leans in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hm," he begins, loud enough to get Remus's attention, "I see you're enjoying your little gift."

Unsurprisingly, Remus isn't ashamed of being caught at all. In fact, he doesn't even bother to pause his playing while talking, just grinning wide at Janus as he grinds down on the toy as best he can.

But Remus still picks up on the implications of Janus's comment, and smiles wide as he slides the toy out a little bit once more. "So that explains why I don't remember buying it!" he exclaims, before moaning loudly as he shoves the plug back in, muffling it's intense vibrations. "But why question a good thing?"

His words are routinely broken by his lewd noises, but he still gathers enough breath to ask "may I know why you've decided to spoil me all of a sudden?"

"Don't make it sound so sweet," Janus chastises, as he pushes Remus's bedroom door closed. He strides towards Remus without hesitation, and helps him off the floor and onto the bed, pulling the remote from Remus's hands in the process. "I did this selfishly. Your gift was completely for my benefit."

Remus moans. "How so?"

Janus clicks the toy down until the vibrations cease entirely, making Remus whine immediately. When he goes to complain, he's silenced by Janus raising his hand, clearly about to offer an explanation. And though Remus is impatient, he's also curious, and so can settle on clenching around the toy until Janus is done.

"You're loud," comes Janus's immediate response. "Very loud. Even with your door shut I can hear your perverted moans seeping into the living room, interrupting my shows or distracting me from work. It's really inconsiderate, you know." Janus moves closer, before waving Remus up.

"Get on the bed," he orders, and Remus scrambles to obey immediately despite the fact they've not done anything sexual previously. He's still inclined to obey.

Remus immediately rolls onto his chest, lifting his ass into the air and bringing one of his hands back to pull his ass cheek to the side in order to show Janus the plug's base, with the toy itself nestled comfortably inside of him.

"Do you know how much of a tease you are?" Janus continues, and Remus can feel him kneeling on the bed behind him. "Always torturing me with your whorish noises, and never inviting me to touch?"

"I thought that could be assumed," Remus responds, only to jolt and moan when he feels a harsh slap to his ass in response.

"Shut up." Janus is firm, and swats Remus's groping hand away after a moment, taking to running his own hands over Remus's cheeks, groping them to his liking before he spreads them apart and grabs the base of the plug, slowly pulling it out before pushing it back in, repeating the process a few times before he's seemingly over Remus's quiet grunts of pleasure.

Janus's hands slide away from Remus's body, making Remus turn his head back to try and catch a glance of him, only for the plug inside of him to suddenly buzz to life once more. He cries out immediately, arching his chest further against the bed while his cock leaks onto his comforter.

"It's powerful, isn't it?" Janus commentates, knowing Remus isn't going to respond. "I made sure to get something stimulating enough to keep you interested. You seem like the needy type, after all."

"How'd- how'd you guess?" Remus gasps out, between moans.

Janus smirks. "I'm very perceptive."

There's the sound of a zipper, followed by lube, and then Remus feels Janus's hand dance across the back of his thighs.

"I can assume the answer, but just to make sure, this is okay, right?" Janus asks, pausing for a moment. Remus is quick to affirmatively answer, making Janus grin before his hands are placed on the sides of his thighs.

Momentarily, Remus wonders what he's going to do, before he feels Janus sliding his cocks - two?! - between his legs, rubbing them against Remus's own cock and closing his thighs around them to give him more friction.

"It'd be a waste to pull that plug out of you," Janus muses, as he shifts the toy around a few times before pressing it up against Remus's prostate, making Remus cry out in sudden pleasure. "Especially after how much I spent on it. You really owe me, you know." Grinding slightly, Janus rubs his cocks over Remus's own, making them both moan.

His arm slides around Remus's waist, and grabs all of their cocks to the best of his ability, squeezing them against each other.

"Two cocks," Remus moans, tongue brazenly out of his mouth as he pants like a dog. "You're a fucking freak. That's so hot!"

Janus scoffs. Here Remus is, letting his roommate use him like a toy, and he's the freak? Hmph.

In response, he squeezes his hand roughly around their cocks, stroking them hard and fast and making himself groan as he leans over Remus's back. His free hand fiddles with the toy's remote, and he lowers the intensity a few notches. When Remus whines, Janus just says "we don't want you spoiling our fun too soon, do we?"

Realistically, even if Remus came too soon for Janus's liking, he'd just overstimulate him until he was satisfied.

"Turn the vibe up," Remus pleads, through dramatic sobs of pleasure. "Pretty please?"

Out of spite, Janus drops the remote onto the bed and grabs Remus's hair instead, pulling his head back and watching drool roll down Remus's chin. The lower half of his face is a mess of spit, and he's careless in moaning louder at the feeling of Janus's fingers tangled in his messy locks.

"Fuck!"

Janus curses under his breath at how vocal Remus is. He knew this would be the case; that's why he was encouraged to do this in the first place, but being in the room with him and listening to him moan and cry with each stroke of his cock or fidget of the plug made Janus realize just how sensually sensitive he is. No wonder he's so loud; a brush against his nipples or a thumb over the slit of his cock probably has him nearing an orgasm almost instantaneously!

Janus keeps one of his hands knotted in Remus's hair, and tugs his head occasionally just to earn a pained whine, while his hand speeds up on their cocks. Remus really is quite the teasing slut.

"I should have done this sooner," Janus grunts, lips pressing against Remus's neck. His sharp teeth scratch Remus's imperfect flesh, dragging over scars and moles and random patches of rough skin that Janus leisurely lets his tongue roll over.

With the plug vibrating so low, Remus is the one that's feeling truly cheated. Yes, it's pleasurable, but it's not enough. If Janus wasn't stroking him off right now, he'd be saying a lot more!

"Please," Remus begs, shooting his shot with pleading once more. "Turn it up! Need it, please!" 

Janus sharply tugs on Remus's hair, earning a cry of desperation, but finally slides his fingers out of it after a moment, watching Remus's head fall quick onto the pillow beneath him, moist with his spit. Despite how fun it is hearing him moan and cry, Janus didn't spend an absurd amount of money on this remote-controlled vibrator just to not use the remote. That'd be silly. 

He grabs it, clutching it tight as he works his hand over his cocks, rubbing them against Remus's quickly. Without a word, he's flicking the remote up a few notches, watching Remus push his chest into the bed as he moans out Janus's name. 

"So hot!" Remus gasps, feeling the plug torture his prostate. "I don't- I don't-" he gasps, before steadying his voice just enough to express "I don't know how I'm going to take this toy out. I want to keep it inside me forever!" 

"Gross," Janus utters, but he clicks the vibe up another peg. He doesn't doubt that Remus will get plenty of use out of the plug, but he'd rather Remus take it out once in a while, lest they want a hospital trip on their calendar. 

Moaning loudly, Remus's fingers drag across the sheets as he rocks his hips, feeling Janus's hand pump his cock and the plug jostle in his ass. He feels so hot. 

And then Janus is turning the plug up all the way, maximum vibrations torturing Remus's prostate with little more than a soft click, which has him crying out immediately "I'm close! I'm close!" 

He's so loud, so shameless, and so quick to come after announcing his approaching orgasm. Clearly, he was a lot closer than he claimed, and his semen spurts over the sheets in thick ropes, until his cock hangs leaky and spent. 

Janus strokes him through his orgasm, before pulling his hand back and turning the vibe down low. Not off, low. Then, he scoots back just enough to push Remus's thighs further together, and leans over him, promptly fucking his thighs as quick as he possibly can. Lube slicks up the sides of Remus's legs, with Janus's cocks rubbing against each other and Remus's flaccid shaft, which seems excited by the brief contact it gets with each thrust until it's twitching and hardening once more. 

"Whore," Janus spits, though his words are more amused than anything else. "If you get hard again you're on your own." 

Remus whines, fully intending to stroke himself off again once Janus comes. And he wants Janus to come. 

"Make a mess of me," Remus pleads, clenching around the plug in his ass. He lifts his body up so that his back is weirdly bent, and so the top of his head is against the pillow, facing toward Janus's rocking hips and his own limp cock.  Tongue hanging out of his mouth, Remus implores Janus "come on my face! Fucking ruin me!" 

And Janus does. With little more than a moan of his own, Janus thrusts his cocks hard between Remus's thighs, and comes. He makes a mess of Remus's chest, the bed, and Remus's face. His come spills over Remus's cheeks, lips, and even gets into his hair, meaning that when Janus pulls back and Remus rolls over, he gets to see the fruits of his labor. 

Remus licks his mouth. 

"Fuck," he curses, panting. His half-lidded eyes observe Janus from across the bed. They both just stay for a moment, catching their breaths, before Remus goes "so... do I get another sex toy the next time you want to bang?" which promptly gets Janus throwing the remote at Remus's chest. 

"Buy your own damn toy," he huffs, before tucking his cocks back into his pants. "And close your door. Especially at night." He pinches the bridge of his nose, recalling the many sleepless nights he's had as a result of Remus getting horny at two in the morning. 

Remus just laughs in response. 

But as Janus gets up to leave, smoothing out his clothes and running his fingers through his sweaty hair to straighten it out, Remus calls "feel free to use me any time you'd like, though." 

Janus glances at him and sees Remus scooping Janus's come off his face and sucking it off his fingers, before Remus adds "after all, I'm going to be moaning your name a lot more after this. It's only fair that you come be the one to make me moan it, y'know?" 

Janus rolls his eyes, and doesn't respond, but Remus knows he'll be back. And until Janus decides to use him again, Remus had a new remote control toy that he could turn up whenever he so desired. Such as right now. 

And as Janus pulls his door shut, he hears muffled buzzing, followed by a crescendo of moans that Janus knows will echo through the house until Remus is done. 

Chapter Text

"It's grown-up stuff," Janus says, as he pats Patton's cheek condescendingly, "you wouldn't understand."

Patton smiles at the comment, though his hands ball into fists at his sides.

The others were just... indulging in inappropriate conversations in the kitchen! He had merely asked what they were talking about in an attempt to gently prod them to move on from the topic, but his words were taken as an invitation to tease him instead. It had him exhaling from his nose at their words, but he was willing to brush it off.

They had a perception of him as being sweet and innocent, and who was he to taint that? But, Janus's comment has Virgil scoffing.

"Please," Virgil mutters, shooting a glare Janus's way. "We both know he definitely hears much worse from Remus." He's stirring sugar into his coffee, circling the spoon in slow, repetitive motions. "God knows how they're together."

"Yeah, it really is a surprise such conflicting personalities don't clash more often," Logan interjects, looking at Patton as though attempting to draw some sort of answer from him. After a few seconds of silence, Patton can sense they expect him to respond, and so musters up a smile and a shrug.

"He's a real sweetheart once you get to know him," Patton replies, though his words were barely true. They make Janus and Virgil scoff.

Virgil taps his spoon against the side of his mug. "Yeah... no."

Janus, grinning, agrees. "Not sweet in the slightest. More sour, if you want my opinion."

"More like disgusting-"

"Virgil." Logan raises a hand to silence Janus and Virgil's comments, before turning back to Patton. "I'm just saying... what kind of conversations do the two of you even have? I have a hard time believing Remus can resist making anything perverse. Or violent."

Patton wants to tell Logan he's not a child. Patton wants to remind them all that he's referred to as the "dad side" for a reason. Instead, Patton smiles cheerily.

"Well, seems like you just don't know him as well as I do!" He rocks on the balls of his feet. "I love him very much, and I think that we have good conversations."

Uttering "doubt that," Virgil takes a loud sip of his coffee.

Fortunately, before any other comments could be made, Remus comes strolling in the kitchen, scratching at his ass before yawning, stretching his arms wide up. He slings his elbow around Patton's shoulder when it falls back down, as though trying to be smooth, though really it just looks like he might slide Patton into a chokehold.

"Mornin' gang," Remus greets them all. Janus is the only person who greets him verbally with an amused "good morning," while Logan acknowledges him with little more than a nod and Patton turns his head to peck Remus's cheek.

Remus kisses Patton's face in turn, leaving a sloppy kiss to the corner of his lips.

"I didn't actually want breakfast or anything," Remus then says, speaking solely to Patton but in an incredibly loud manner. "I just came to kidnap you and save you from these dastardly light sides." Staring at Janus and Virgil, Remus loudly whispers in Patton's ears "some of them are disgusting traitors. They'll corrupt you for sure!"

Patton can't help but smile. "I'm a 'dastardly light side.'"

Remus grins in turn, flashing his sharp teeth. "Nobody's perfect!"

He then scoops Patton up, and carelessly throws him over his shoulder, making Patton yelp and then laugh as he's effortlessly carried out of the kitchen, with Remus sticking his tongue out at the others as he steals Patton away. He pats Patton's ass as soon as they're out of view, before rubbing over it and groping shamelessly. The fact he waited to squeeze at all was impressive, and has Patton snickering as he tells Remus such the moment he's set down inside his own room.

"Your impulse control is getting better."

"I was hoping for a reward," Remus replies, shutting Patton's door behind them before dropping to his knees. "I could tell the situation downstairs was getting uncomfortable." Remus shudders, ecstatically. "You know I love when things get uncomfortable."

Patton's smile turns into a half-frown, before he shrugs away the events of this morning, and focuses on Remus instead.

"A reward?" Patton repeats, as his baby-blue eyes go from looking wide and innocent to narrowed and intense. "You like it when I punish you more."

Remus smiles. If he had a tail, it'd be wagging vigorously behind him. "Punishment works too! I love punishments. And you're so hot when I've been bad! And I know I just woke up like... ten minutes ago... but I'm sure I've been a dumb little brat since then!"

Shamelessly, he shuffles forward until he's kneeling before Patton's thick thighs. He presses his face against Patton's khaki pants and rubs his cheek over his clothed bulge.

"What kind of punishment did you have in mind?" Remus asks, already eager. "Choke me until I pass out? Cut me open, maybe? I think I deserve something special!"

His hands snake up the back of Patton's thighs until they reach his ass, which Remus easily squeezes while pulling him closer. It also helps to keep Patton from pushing him away too quickly. Though, much to his disappointment, his plan only works for a moment or two, as after a bit of groping encouraged by Patton's hand running through his knotted hair, he's being pulled away.

"Make yourself useful and get those pesky clothes out of the way. Then, I want you face down and ass up on the bed for me." Patton's tone shifts from soft to stern in a matter of instances, making Remus shiver with excitement as he basically springs onto the bed.

His clothes are carelessly tossed left and right until he's naked, where he flips himself onto his stomach and pushes his hips into the air. Right as he turns to watch Patton supposedly undress or reach for a toy, he's met with a firm "and no peeking!" which has him whining in annoyance as he presses his face into the pillows instead.

He takes to talking to keep himself from looking.

"You know, we can always prove those dorks wrong," he suggests, though he doubts Patton will consider anything that comes from his mouth. "We can leave the door unlocked... even open a crack! And they'll get to hear me enjoy all the wonderful things your fat cock has to offer." He's basically moaning as he speaks, getting off on the idea of someone hearing him. "Maybe they'll even peek their heads inside, and see you in action! They'll see you ruin me!"

He's trembling slightly, shifting his weight back and forth on his knees and wiggling his ass. His cock is already completely hard. Sure, he's much more into the idea of being caught than he is actually proving them wrong, but hey! Two birds with one stone!

But Patton isn't listening to him, instead using the sound of Remus's voice to cover up noise his belt makes as he pulls it through the loops of his pants. Then, he's only unzipping his pants enough to get his cock out, giving it a few strokes to work himself up to full hardness and leaving it at that.

He folds the belt as he makes his way to the edge of the bed, before waiting for the perfect lull in Remus's ramble to cut him off by taking the belt roughly to his ass.

Remus suddenly cries out at the hit, feeling the sting of the hit pulsating afterwards, which has him gasping as he turns his head to the side, catching a glimpse of Patton's grinning face, and the leather belt on his hand, which is raised to spank him again.

"Are you going to be a good boy and count for me, Remus?" Patton asks, as his free hand rubs the spot he'd just spanked. "Or are you too stupid to do something that simple?"

"I can count," Remus immediately responds, moaning at the question.

Patton smiles, before stating "start at one," and then hitting Remus again, whipping the belt over his ass and leaving a harsh red mark where it makes contact.

Pushing his ass up into the air, Remus enjoys the painful feeling so much he almost immediately forgets to count, but he's quick to obediently spread his legs apart and say "one," when Patton's hand squeezes over his ass once more. 

"Good slut," Patton praises, in a faux sweet tone. 

"You're so fucking hot when you're rough," Remus pants in reply, pushing his nails into the bedsheets in order to avoid touching his leaking cock. He knows Patton wouldn't be pleased with that, and he'd rather not get tied up or edged. 

Patton smiles at Remus's flattery, finding it amusing, but responds to the compliment with two harsh hits to Remus's ass, one in each direction. 

"I don't remember giving you permission to say anything but numbers," he states, a low growl in his voice. Despite this, he is smiling, though Remus can't see it from his angle. He does get the hint and quiet down though, after letting out a rushed "two and three," followed by a quaking moan. 

Patton doesn't bother giving Remus a break. He already knows Remus can handle it. Which is why he barely gets Remus enough time to get the next three numbers out of his mouth as Patton smacks him in quick succession. 

Remus's voice escalates in pitch every time he's cut off part-way through with another hit, though he rushes to quickly get the number past his lips. 

And just to keep Remus guessing, Patton takes a moment to sweetly scold Remus for tensing, running his finger down the length of Remus's leaky cock. 

"Relax," Patton soothes him, though he sounds more delighted by Remus's pain than anything else. "It's no fun for me to hit you when you're bracing for it." His pointer presses more firmly against Remus's shaft, before he removes his hand from it, and pulls back. He watches Remus exhale, breath shaky, before he seems to relax fully into the mattress. Then, Patton is quickly whipping the belt over his ass again, making Remus cry out. 

"I want you to be unable to sit without flinching," Patton states, voice soft but words dirty. "I want you to bite your lip before you rest on the couch, knowing that it'll sting as soon as your ass presses against the cushions. And I want you to struggle internally when you're asked what's wrong, torn between desperately admitting how thoroughly you were wrecked, or keeping our little secret." 

He hits Remus in between words, before finally Remus is moaning out a trembling "ten!" already practically drooling against the mattress. 

When they reach ten, Patton takes a moment to sweetly praise Remus, running his hands lightly over Remus's ass as if caressing him, even though he's sure his touch must sting. 

Moaning loud, Remus's thighs squeeze together in a desperate attempt to give his cock any sort of pleasure. Immediately however Patton is flipping Remus over, and giving his cock a harsh smack. Tsking, Patton scolds "naughty boy." 

When Remus whines, Patton just slaps him again. "I really do have to punish you, hm? Touching yourself without my permission!" 

As Remus goes to defend himself, Patton's roughly grabbing his wrists and pulling them above his head, pressing them against the headboard as he uses his belt to loop a knot around Remus's hands. It's tight enough to have Remus audibly hiss in pain as he feels the edges of the band press into his skin. 

"There you go, slut," Patton coos, rough hand petting over Remus's thighs, keeping them spread despite Remus wanting nothing more than to close them and rub his cock between them. "Since you obviously needed my help." 

Remus tugs at the belt around his wrists, and lets out a shuddering moan when they don't budge in the slightest. 

"You're so fucking hot," Remus gasps, bucking his hips. "Fuck me? Fuck me, pretty please?"

"Fuck you?" Patton echoes, caressing Remus's body. "Now why would I do that? It's much more fun to tease you, after all." 

If Patton had a second belt, he'd be whipping it over Remus's thighs right now, but he didn't. So instead, he focuses on pinching the thin layers of skin and muscle in order to excite Remus further, and grins wide when he hears it working, watching Remus cry out desperately and buck his hips again, as though trying to entice Patton to touch his cock. 

"Please, Patton?!" Remus cries, kicking his legs rather wildly, and only calming after he gets a rough hit to his thighs. 

Patton is silent for a few moments, but truthfully he's spiteful that the others still don't believe he even knows what sex is. He's an adult; he's not ignorant. He can avoid being lewd in front of a camera, but that doesn't mean he's oblivious!

"Beg me for it, whore," he then spits, making Remus moan at the degradation. 

"Please, please Patton, I want your cock!" Remus cries, squirming in his binds. His sore ass rubs uncomfortably against the bed sheets, and he loves it. "I want you to fuck me hard into the mattress, make me come over and over until I'm crying. Fuck, Patton-" Remus pauses to catch his breath, before pleading even louder "-I want the others to hear you ruin me!" 

"Oh. They will." 

Remus moans at Patton's assurance, and doesn't doubt him in the slightest as he quickly undresses himself, and grabs some lube. He doesn't use much, just enough to coat his cock in a thin layer, before he's roughly grabbing Remus's ankles and pulling them onto his shoulders and pushing his cock into Remus's hole, earning an immediate and loud moan from the latter. 

Remus has never, and will never be the type to hold back his sounds of pleasure, but he's especially vocal now. Right now, he truly wants the others to hear, to be jealous of just how rough Patton is with him. The fact that only Remus gets to see this dirty, rough side of him. 

 Ever impatient however, Remus is immediately trying to move his hips back and forth on Patton's cock, letting out pathetic, panting noises that show off just how desperate he is for more. 

Grinning wide, Remus taunts "what, no choking me? No gagging me with your long, thick fingers and threatening me if I don't be quiet?" 

Patton's eyes narrow, daring Remus to do further, but begins to slowly thrust into Remus as the man beneath him speaks. 

"Maybe you really did mean it when you said you wanted the others to-" 

Remus is interrupted by a particularly harsh thrust into him, before Patton grabs his chin and holds his face firm. He shoves his thumb into Remus's mouth just enough to pin his tongue down, leaning down so their faces are closer, before stating "you're allowed to cry. You're allowed to moan. Hell, you're allowed to scream. But the only 'talking' you'll be doing is begging, you understand? Unless you're complimenting me, or punctuating your words with a polite 'please,' you aren't to be talking. Understood?" 

Patton slips his thumb out of Remus's mouth and wipes his own spit against Remus's cheek. Remus is immediately nodding, panting needily as he does so. 

"Understood," he affirms, before yanking his arms, causing the belt around his wrists to dig deeper into his skin. "Now please, please, ruin me!" 

Patton doesn't need to be told twice! 

Hands on Remus's hips, Patton thrusts into him hard and fast, pulling his cock mostly out before shoving it in hard, overwhelming Remus immediately which has him crying out excitedly at the pleasure, wishing he could use his hands to drag Patton closer by his hair. 

As much as Patton loves being rough with Remus, he is still, well, himself. And he's unfortunately quite the sweetheart. 

Watching the gorgeously tempting way that Remus throws his head back and cries out Patton's name over and over is just far too pretty to ignore completely! And Patton can't help licking his lips before pushing forward to kiss Remus hard, swallowing up his sounds and roughly exploring Remus's mouth with his tongue. A passionate, sweet kiss. 

When Patton pulls away, he's tugging on Remus's hair. 

"Oh, come on, Remus! Are you going to waste such an opportunity?" Patton coos, leaning over Remus and pushing his legs back in an abnormally aching manner. Remus is definitely more flexible than most, but he's not resilient. "I'm letting you be noisy for once. Who knows when you'll get the chance to be loud again!" 

He knows Remus fantasizes about being caught by the others. It's a fantasy Patton doesn't share, but one that his spite is making him more open to in this moment. 

He emphasizes the end of each question with a harsh thrust, actively encouraging Remus to be louder and louder. 

"Moan my name for me, Remus," Patton urges, as his cock fucks against Remus's prostate, earning a loud and scratchy cry to pull itself from Remus's throat. "Scream it. Don't you want the others to know that I make you feel good? To think about how roughly I must handle you, every single time they look at us?" 

"Patton!" Remus cries. "Patton- fuck! Patton!" 

Over, and over, and over, Remus shouts Patton's name, being pleased with the repeated assaults on his prostate until his cock is spewing pre, making a mess of his stomach. 

"Close!" 

"Of course you are, slut," Patton mocks, wrapping his fingers tightly around Remus's cock, stroking it messily as he keeps thrusting his cock as hard as he can against Remus's prostate, until Remus is a whimpering, unintelligible mess. Words that sound like Patton's name fill the room, but they're all cut off part way through by loud moans or cries of pleasure. 

"So close already," Patton continues, squeezing his hand around Remus's shaft, "and we've only just started. You think I'm going to stop after just one orgasm? No, dear. You're going to be my dumb stress toy all night." 

Remus's back arches off the bed. "Patton!" 

"What? You want to come? Go ahead. We're not stopping whether you do or don't." 

And Remus is not one to pass up an orgasm, and so lets his release wash over him as he comes over Patton's hand, making a mess of Patton's fingers and his own stomach. And yet Patton's cock doesn't falter. 

He strokes and thrusts through the duration of Remus's orgasm, before pulling his hand away, though his hips never still. And Remus doesn't want him to. 

"Use me," Remus croaks, voice scratchy from all his yelling. "Use me over and over!" 

"I'm going to," Patton assures him, sweet voice hiding a slew of dirty promises. "You better get that stupid little cock hard again, so I can go right back to abusing it." He grabs it again, and strokes Remus as his thrusts start to get sloppy, feeling Remus's shaft harden in his hand. Remus lets out a trembling moan. 

"Come in me," Remus pleads, legs shaking in their current position. "Come in me all night until I'm bloated with your fluids!" 

Patton cringes, but his hands tighten on Remus nonetheless, holding him tight as his cock slams into Remus, massaged by his inner walls until heat overtakes him, beads of sweat rolling down his face and over his chest, dripping onto Remus's body beneath him. 

"Fuck," Patton eventually curses, as he feels Remus clench around him. "Fuck, I'm close." 

"Come in me!" Remus cries, more desperately this time. "Please, please, please!" 

He's awfully loud, and awfully enticing, and so Patton can't help depriving him further as he comes, thrusting deep into Remus as he orgasms and fucking into Remus throughout it, riding out his pleasure before leaning over Remus and panting, flushed face showing clear bliss. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Patton then tilts his head upwards and makes eye contact with Remus, who's just as sweaty and more than ready to keep going. And as Patton starts to thrust again, starting slow and steadily speeding up, both of them understand that Patton's serious. They'll be going all night long. And when the others see Remus's ruined body tomorrow, they'll just have to guess what went on the day prior. They'll just have to assume that, maybe, Patton isn't as innocent as they think. 

Chapter Text

"It's okay, Logan," Patton assures Logan, who's shirtless but has a blanket pulled around his shoulders, hiding his body. Logan's chewing on his inner cheek. "Honest."

"I don't have a breeding kink," Logan insists, red face turned away from Patton in order to avoid eye contact. Patton is also shirtless, and pantless, but he's clearly hard through his boxers. Before they'd been unfortunately interrupted, they were having quite a good time. "We can just forget I said anything."

"Forget that you said 'I can't wait to breed you full?'"

Logan pulls the blanket tighter around him. "Yes! Exactly."

Patton reaches over to set a hand on Logan's thigh, rubbing over his jeans as he softly coos "Logan, really, I don't mind. It's not weird or anything, if that's what you're worried about. Plenty of people have breeding kinks."

"I don't have a breeding kink," Logan states, embarrassed. "It's just... my biological need to reproduce! It's only natural I want to get the person I love pregnant!" Under his breath, Logan mutters "and, well, of course that's arousing. Can't get someone pregnant if you're not ready for sex."

"That sounds an awful lot like a breeding kink."

Logan's hands come up to cover his face, unnaturally humiliated by this conversation. And yet, his thighs are pressing together as he hunches over, trying to hide himself from Patton.

"It's not a kink," comes Logan's weak, muffled defense.

Patton slides his hand off of Logan's thigh, and rubs over his back instead. "Okay. Okay, so you don't have a breeding kink. That's okay. You still have a boner, so-"

"Patton!"

Patton laughs softly as Logan's hands fall from his face and slap against his thighs instead, as he turns to look at Patton with bright red cheeks and wide blue eyes.

"What?" Patton asks, before laughing harder. "It's true. And if you don't want to have sex anymore, that's fine, but I'd prefer to know now so I can go... take care of myself." Patton motions to his lower half to emphasize his point, which has Logan stammering, before eventually sucking in a deep breath and looking away.

"We can still have sex," he mutters, before clearing his throat and letting the blanket fall from his shoulders.

"And you can talk about breeding me if you want," Patton reassures him, smiling at the way that Logan's shoulder scrunch, clearly still embarrassed. "I think it's kind of endearing." Upon Logan biting his bottom lip, still hesitant, Patton adds "and completely natural, of course! Just natural human biology. Totally."

Even if it wasn't possible, and even if neither of them really wanted kids, if Logan liked the idea of breeding then Patton liked it too. Especially because Logan sounded so cute when he said it, while he had Patton pinned down and earnestly declared his desire in between breathy kisses.

Patton had tried to hold him after Logan realized what he'd said, but Logan had pulled away immediately, apologizing repeatedly and nervously stimming as he sat on the edge of the bed, too enamored with Patton to just leave but clearly uncomfortable in the environment he'd created. It was abnormal to see Logan so nervous, which made Patton think this was important to him, if not a major kink of his.

Patton leans forward, kissing Logan's cheek, and then gently turning Logan to face him, kissing his lips after. Logan lets him, and after a few seconds of brief, sweet kisses, Logan eventually sets his hands on Patton's hips and guides him to be back against the bed, head against their pillows once more.

"Good boy," Patton encourages him, as Logan's cool hands rub against his sides. He's visibly hesitant, but he can only be so unsure around Patton, who is incredibly good at making him feel good and calm. 

Patton gently scratches through Logan's hair as Logan kisses over his neck, before in the softest voice Logan utters "I can't wait to breed you." 

It's so quiet, Patton doubts Logan said anything at first, until Logan pulls his face away, letting Patton see his dark red cheeks and the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows down his spit. 

Patton cups Logan's face in response, leaning up just enough to press a quick kiss to Logan's lips as he goes "there, see? So good. Tell me more, Logan. Go on."

Logan flushes at the sweet insistence, but as his hands travel down Patton's body, Logan can't help continuing. "Every time we've had sex, I've just thought about filling you up, and getting you pregnant."

Logan's words are hushed and slurred, though he's quick to tag on "because such a desire is purely biological. Completely natural. Yes." But there's nothing natural in the way Logan's hands are trembling as he slides his fingers past the waistband of Patton's boxers, slowly working them down Patton's fat, hairy thighs. He pulls them off, and tosses them to the floor, before rubbing the palm of his hand over Patton's shaft.

Patton moans at the light touch, before he pokes his foot into Logan's leg.

"Can't breed me with your pants on, silly," Patton teases, which has Logan huffing but moving to pull his own bottoms off, discarding them once he's naked and pinning Patton back down as soon as he's done. Patton pulls Logan closer by his shoulders.

Running his fingers through Logan's hair, Patton praises him softly under his lips, both of them moaning softly as their cocks briefly drag against each others, until Logan's pulling back just enough to reach for a small bottle of lube. 

He spreads it over his fingers, before spreading Patton's thighs apart and pressing his pointer and his middle against Patton's hole. A quick glance to Patton's round, smiling face encourages him to push his fingers in slowly, shuddering when Patton moans loud at the otherwise uneventful intrusion. 

"Good boy," Logan mutters softly, making Patton smile wider. He keeps his legs spread obediently as Logan stretches him open, moaning with each soft thrust into him. 

Eventually, Logan adds a third finger, scissoring Patton wide for a few more minutes, before finally his fingers slip out and his cock is being lubed up instead. 

Logan feels almost as though he’s in a submissive position as he slicks up his cock, just barely managing to keep himself from fumbling about clumsily as he tosses the lube to the side. Patton is just so shamelessly confident in the way he stares at Logan, leaving Logan unsure of whether Patton knows exactly what he’s doing, or if he’s completely oblivious and just thinks he’s being helpful.

And this confusion is further amplified when Patton just spreads his legs further, sweetly pleading “come on, Logan. What’s on your mind?”

Logan licks his dry lips, hesitating over an answer.

Immediately, Patton’s bottom lip juts out in a dramatic, but playful, pout. “Oh, Logan!” Patton whines, feigning hurt, while simultaneously encouraging Logan. “Don’t you think I’d be so pretty stuffed full? With my belly bulging, full of your come?”

Cursing under his breath, the only thing Logan can muster is asking “are we sure you’re not the one with a breeding kink?” which makes Patton laugh softly.

“Honey,” Patton coos, and the affectionate nickname makes Logan shift on his knees.

“You already know the answer,” Logan responds, hands running over Patton’s opened legs.

Patton relaxes further against the bed, trailing his own hand down his chubby stomach, drawing absent-minded circles over his skin. “Sure, I know, but I want to hear you say it. Don’t you want to say it? Don’t you think it’s good to speak your truth?”

Logan whimpers, chewing on his lower lip momentarily, before eventually mumbling “I… I think you’d look good stuffed full.”

“There, good boy,” Patton praises him, which has Logan blushing dark red. “Now, prove it.”

And Logan does, not keen on waiting any further to indulge in his kinks. Slowly, he pushes his cock into Patton’s hole, making both of them moan at the feeling of their bodies conjoining. Patton’s inner walls massage Logan’s cock, and Patton immediately reaches up to gently tangle his fingers in Logan’s hair.

One of Logan’s hands rests firmly against Patton’s waist, while the other rests aside Patton’s head. Patton immediately reaches up to grab it, entwining their fingers.

Once Logan’s cock is fully buried inside Patton, he can’t help stammering as he says “I want- I want to fuck you hard. I want to breed you properly.”

Patton responds by wrapping his other arm around Logan’s shoulder, gasping at his words. “Good boy. You’re- you’re so honest,” Patton soothes him, feeling Logan’s embarrassed body slowly relax at his words. “Keep going. Tell me all about your fantasies, dear. Tell me how badly you want to breed me; how that idea has been plaguing your head every time we’ve had sex.”

Logan groans at Patton’s words, squeezing his eyes shut, but slowly rocking his hips forward as he tucks his face against Patton's shoulder. Despite Patton encouraging him to indulge, Logan’s humiliation burns through his limbs, overwhelming him with sheer bashfulness. But, Patton hears Logan’s voice begin to quietly speak into his ear.

“You’d look so pretty bred,” Logan begins, as though sharing an intimate secret just between the two of them. “You’d take my come so well. I want to just keep going and going until you’re completely stuffed full, and then I can plug you up. Guarantee that you’re bred successfully.”

That’s not exactly how it works, but the concept still seems to excite Logan.

“Just want to get you pregnant,” Logan continues, thrusting his hips harder into Patton, making Patton’s back arch up against Logan’s chest with the pleasure he’s feeling. “I want to fuck you full and fill your fat stomach with babies, constantly cradling you and fucking you until I’m sure it’ll happen. I want to be the one to breed you.” His blunt nails dig deep into Patton’s hairy thighs. “I- I hate it when you empty yourself out. I know it’s to get clean; I know it’s good to be clean, but the idea of waking up beside you the next morning, and seeing you still plugged up with my come…”

Logan’s voice quakes as he speaks, and he noticeably shudders as he admits his fantasies aloud. Patton feels his hot breath against his neck, and Logan places a brief kiss to his skin before continuing.

“In that circumstance, you’d just be too irresistible to pass up. I could fuck you again, fill you further…”

As he speaks, he becomes less focused on trying to pass off his own kink as being “purely biological,” and instead reveals to Patton just how intricately he’s thought about this, as he’s no doubt been imagining this since their relationship began. And this isn’t biological in the slightest!

It’s less about having kids and the actual aspects of pregnancy; it’s about getting Patton pregnant. Breeding him. The action of such, in a way.

As Patton fully realizes this, he finds the concept excites him too, but he’s unsure if it’s the idea of breeding that arouses him, or just how pathetically into it Logan is.

Either way, he loves it. Of course he loves it. He loves when Logan is honest with what he likes!

Patton’s thighs move to wrap around Logan’s waist, squeezing around him and spurring him further.

Logan moans into Patton’s ear, before dragging his teeth over Patton’s collarbone, picking up the speed of his thrusts and becoming more determined to make Patton feel good. His hand slides to Patton’s stomach, groping over the chub as he no doubt imagines pumping him full of semen.

“Each day, your stomach would get bigger and bigger, full of my come, breeding you fuller and fuller until I’m sure you’d get pregnant,” Logan breathily insists. His eyes are pressed lightly shut as he pulls his head from Patton’s neck, pushing himself up slightly in order to get a better angle on his thrusts. The change allows him to finally fuck into Patton’s prostate, making Patton suddenly cries out as he grasps Logan hard.

Glasses slipping down his face, Logan admits between gasps of air “I’m going to breed you full. So, so full,” seemingly getting more and more confident each time he says it, which makes Patton feel hot and excited.

The hand in Logan’s hair slides to cup Logan’s face instead, as Patton properly focuses on the lewd expressions Logan’s making, which of course has Patton smiling softly through his moans. He quietly praises Logan for being so pretty, as he doesn’t bother extending the courtesy of pushing Logan’s frames up for him. Logan rarely lets himself look so ruined, and if Logan finally indulging in his breeding kink is what it takes to make him look this way, then so be it!

It makes Patton feel so honored. He loves that he in part is contributing to how much of a mess Logan is.

“You’re going to do such a good job,” Patton moans, as Logan’s cock repeatedly slams into his prostate, Logan’s hands tightly holding onto Patton as he lets out a broken moan of his own. “Am I making you feel good, Logan? Breed me, Logan. I know you want it- I know you want to. You can, Logan, I want you to. I want you to.”

Logan’s eyes squeeze firmly shut - almost painfully so - sweat dripping down the sides of his face as his hips stutter. His body is overwhelmed with heat, overly hot at the idea that Patton wants this just as much as he does, and is in part enjoying this just as much as Logan is (though that’s an incredibly hard comparison to make considering how desperate and pathetic Logan is acting - pun intended). 

"Are- are you close?" Logan asks, finally cracking his eyes open to observe Patton beneath him, briefly looking over Patton's flushed face before his eyes inevitably drift to Patton's stomach. 

He moves his hand from Patton's hip to his cock, wrapping his fingers around Patton's leaking shaft and stroking it quickly. Patton's cries out at the dual sensations of pleasure. 

"Yes!" he exclaims, before pleading "breed me full, Logan! Please!" 

Spit dribbles down Logan's chin as he curses, tears even welling up in his eyes at just how intensely good he's feeling watching Patton play along. He wants to breed Patton full. He wants to pump him full of come. 

And so, when Logan quickly feels his orgasm approaching, he doesn't bother to hold back in the slightest, letting out a pathetically loud moan of his own as he buries his cock deep inside Patton, spurting come inside of him and filling him full. He fucks Patton messily through his orgasm, and luckily brings Patton to an orgasm shortly after, with Patton coming sloppily over Logan's hand and their stomachs. Logan strokes him through it, before he collapses atop him, cock still shoved inside Patton's hole. 

Panting hard, Patton wraps his arms around Logan. "Feel good?" 

He's met with Logan's heavy breath inhaling, exhaling, and then inhaling again. There's no answer at first, before eventually Logan sighs out a very honest "yeah." 

"Good. I like it when you feel good," Patton responds, petting through Logan's hair. 

"Did... did you feel good?" 

Patton laughs softly at the question. "Of course I did, Logan. You made me feel so, so good," Patton assures him, placing a kiss to the side of Logan's face as he feels Logan's glasses pressing against his neck.

"Can we sleep like this tonight?" 

This question is significantly quieter, with Logan audibly bracing himself for a rejection. At first, Patton's confused by the question, before understanding that Logan wants to sleep with his cock buried inside Patton for the night. The idea makes Patton blush. 

"Yeah," Patton answers. "We can sleep like this tonight. I love you." 

Patton feels Logan squeeze his hand, before kissing Patton's neck, and sliding his own glasses off. He slides Patton's glasses off shortly after, and set them both to the side, and then rests properly against Patton, their legs a tangled mess. 

"I love you too." 

Chapter Text

"Ooo," Remus sings, as he stops midway through the hallway after spotting a discarded little toy. Very open on the floor was a little, pale doll, with cute, dark purple bangs. Of course Remus recognized the doll; he'd made it!

Back when he made his own little voodoo doll, he eventually got the motivation to make the others. And though this all started with Virgil using his doll, Remus never got the chance to return the favor!

So, he's quick to slip into the room and scoop the doll up, before skipping back out into the walkway. 

He pauses outside of a door, though, before he peeks his head into Virgil's room as he passes it, basically pushing his way in unannounced when he sees Virgil isn't currently preoccupied. Virgil jumps at the rather violent intrusion, as his door swings open and collides with the wall with a bang. 

"Virgil," Remus sings, "you're not busy right now, are you?"

Virgil looks at him curiously. "I might be, depending on what you say next."

Remus pouts at the sarcastic answer, but holds the doll firmly behind his back in order to not reveal why he's asking. He wants it to be an unexpected surprise! "Are you going to be busy later?"

Again, Virgil's eyes narrow as he looks Remus up and down, before eventually sighing and saying "no. I have no plans today. I might nap if my body lets me but honestly, who knows."

At this, Remus grins, and promptly walks out without another word. it's good to know he won't be interrupting anything... even though he probably would have fucked the doll all the same if Virgil told him he was going to be watching a movie or something of the sort. He's not known for his patience, after all, and since discovering the doll a few minutes ago, Remus has been fighting back the urge to just ruin the thing in the middle of the hallway.

He basically sprints to his own room, tossing the doll rather roughly onto his sticky sheets as he quickly shimmies out of his clothes. As he kicks his boxers off, he digs his hand into his drawer, searching desperately until he finally finds a small bag. He gives it a little shake, and is pleased to find it's still semi-full.

It was the "magic" powder that needed to be sprinkled on the doll in order to activate the voodoo aspect.

Remus is quick to open the bag and basically dump its contents onto the doll, delighted as he sees the sand-like substance meld with the doll and sink into its fabric, no doubt seeping into each stitch, and into the thin piece of Virgil's hair woven someplace inside the plush. Remus gives it a few seconds to let it properly soak up the dust, before he's hopping onto his bed, no longer having the patience to hold back to any degree. 

He's quick to peel the clothes off the doll and toss them away. Curiously, he dips his finger into the hole on the underside of the doll, and licks his lips when his fingers sink into a warm, moist area. 

Truthfully, he didn't fully understand how the dolls worked either, but nothing was real, so whatever. 

In his room, however, Virgil is startled as he feels two objects begin to push into him. They don't push very far, nor do they stretch him open wildly. But it's still enough of an intrusion to have him gasping, and his back arching off the bed. 

His face flushes as he wonders what the hell is happening. Of course, he's not an idiot. To some degree, he knows this has something to do with Remus - why would he have come to Virgil's door otherwise - but he can't place what exactly. After all, he only knew that Remus had created a doll of himself, not the other way around. 

Remus has never exactly been known for his patience, and it’s not fingering the doll is going to help Virgil out anyway. That’s the only reason he bothers with prep anyway, so why would he waste his time stretching open an inanimate object?

He pushes his fingers deeper into the doll, delighted at the way just two digits make the doll’s fabric stomach bulge, grinning afterwards at the innocent looking plush held in his hands.

Truly, it was rather admirable; he was very proud of his handiwork.

He then sucks on his fingers after he pulls them out, vividly picturing what Virgil’s reactions must be. He’s half tempted to rise into his room and watch him lose himself on a phantom cock, but decides to deprive himself of the visible, reasoning that he’ll go see Virgil afterwards, and see how exhausted he is.

Remus flips himself to lay on his back, and holds the Virgil doll against his cock, giving himself just a few moments to teasingly rub the toy against his shaft.

“Fuck… if you were really Virgil, you’d be squirming around, and insisting you hate when I tease you,” Remus grunts, as he ruts his cock over the doll’s front. “Unfortunately, you’re just a pocket pussy replica.”

He lifts the doll up, and lines up its hole with the tip of his cock, before pulling it rather swiftly down, groaning to himself at the rather attractive visual of the doll being extra stuffed. He knows from experience that his cock will feel much bigger to Virgil, which it in fact does.

Virgil barely has time to put his phone down between Remus pulling his fingers out and pushing his cock in, but when he feels it he cries out immediately, thighs shaking as his toes curl. His fingers dig into the sheets beneath him, trembling from the intensity of being so suddenly stretched open, with his stomach bulging from this invisible object.

While he still has his brain, and the ability to think, Virgil tries to come up with a reasonable explanation for what he’s feeling. However, he only comes to a conclusion seconds before Remus starts thrusting.

Gasping out “Re- Remus!” he tries to roll off his bed, perhaps thinking he could make it to Remus’s room, but only effectively manages to get onto his stomach before he feels the phantom cock inside of him begin to roughly fuck him hard.

Tears well up in his eyes as he moans loud, voice cracking as he pushes his chest into the bed and his ass up into the air. He holds to his mattress for support, body rocking as he’s quite literally used like a doll. Because Virgil realized that’s what Remus was doing. Using his doll.

The pure oversensitivity sets into his body fast. His face is pushed hard into one of his pillows, sobbing out cries of pleasure as he’s fucked. Remus’s cock feels so overwhelmingly large inside of him, to the point where he can feel his stomach bulging with its girth.

He moans Remus’s name, as if hoping Remus will show up and touch him properly, but muffles himself with his pillow shortly after, drool spilling into the pillowcase.

His arms tremble as he attempts to push himself up, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down to his knees, while his shirt and jacket slide up, exposing his chest. Every time he moves though, he swears Remus’s cock drives deeper inside of him. It’s almost as though Remus is easily able to pick up on Virgil’s desperation, and wants him to be able to barely get himself upright. And it’s working.

As soon as Virgil’s clothes are removed enough, he gives up on getting them off completely, and falls back against the bed with a shuddering moan.

Remus isn’t slow in the slightest, grunting animalistically as he squeezes his hand around the doll, fucking up into it while dragging it down. He’s panting excitedly as he watches the doll repeatedly bulge with the size of his shaft, before he rolls onto his knees in order to thrust into the doll properly. He pictures Virgil beneath him, fucking him doggy style, and humps into the doll with more force.

His cock is enveloped in the fabric’s moist warmth, making Remus’s body feel hot as he pictures just how wrecked Virgil is.

And Virgil is wrecked.

Sweat drips down his face, slicking his bangs to his forehead. A mixture of tears and spit soak into his pillow, and he can feel his cock leaking pre beneath him. His prostate is slammed into almost immediately, causing a loud cry to be pulled from his throat. His eyes squeeze shut, and his knuckles turn white.

His thoroughly overwhelmed by the amount of sensations he’s feeling, loving the intense amount of physical pleasure he’s getting, but feeling as though it’s so fast. It’s too much at once, in the best way.

He should really be concerned that Remus has this much power over him. At any time, any day, no matter the circumstances, Remus could just interrupt Virgil’s routine - regardless of whether or not he’s around the others - and just stuff him full of giant cock. And while this should make him anxious, as soon as he realizes this, he’s fumbling to get his hand around his cock.

The idea is just so fucking hot, but Virgil’s already close. He resists the urge to stroke himself, and instead squeezes his hand around the base of his cock in hopes of prolonging his orgasm at least another minute or two.

A whine spills from his lips. The thought of Remus having full control over him…

He has no idea how close Remus is though, and so he knows that if he doesn’t at least try to last a little longer, he could end up so overstimulated that he’ll be unable to do anything for the rest of the day.

He clenches around nothing, soaking his pillow with fat tears as he cries loudly into his pillowcase. Every breath he takes is a gasp for air before he shakily moans again. His fingers squeeze harder around his cock, before he decides he can’t take it anymore. 

As his prostate is assaulted, Virgil strokes his cock quickly and sloppily, until finally allowing himself to be pushed over the edge, coming over his bedsheets as a mixture of tears and drool falls from his face just as messily. He can barely work his cock through his orgasm before he’s collapsing into his mess, falling on top of his hand and the puddle of come beneath him.

Briefly, he whines, dreading the fact he’ll have to clean it later, but for now he pulls his hand out from under him and twitches helplessly as he’s forced to accept the onslaught of pleasure still being exerted on his body.

He looks pathetic. If anyone were to see him, they’d easily see his hole stretching and clenching around nothing.

Partially, he feels as though he’s going to pass out from his oversensitive state, left with no indication of if or when Remus will be finished with him. He thinks he feels Remus’s thrusts getting less and less refined, but Remus was never one for rhythmic thrusts anyway. He much preferred to just use and abuse to his heart’s content, regardless of how overwhelming that mindset is for Virgil.

Thankfully though, it doesn’t take long for Remus to fully ruin the poor little plush. Pre fills the doll’s warm hole as Remus fucks into it hard and fast.

Repeatedly, his cock slams deep into the toy, Remus grunting and panting wildly as his body is overcome with warmth, sweat rolling down the bony crevices of his body and dripping onto both the doll and the bed. Unlike Virgil, Remus doesn’t try in the slightest to stifle his orgasm, and instead moans out loud and shamelessly as his brings himself to climax, fucking the toy through his orgasm before eventually keeping himself half pressed inside the doll, stroking himself the rest of the way. He grins as he watches the doll’s fabric body bulge with the amount it’s stuffed with. 

He lets his head fall back as he huffs, tongue lolled out of his mouth like a doll as he feels his own semen squeeze out of the doll and spill around his cock, but that cringe-inducing feeling is nothing compared to what Virgil is experiencing, letting out a trembling sob as he feels himself being filled with Remus’s load, his own cock working itself back up both due to being rubbed between Virgil’s body and the sheets, and because Remus thrusts into the doll a few more times after his orgasm is finished.

Ultimately, it leaves Virgil half-hard, but lacking the energy to get himself off again, and so he stays slumped against his mattress, messy with a variety of fluids.

That is, until, his ass is promptly slapped, making him yelp at the stinging sensation as he quickly rolls onto his side in order to look behind him, only to flush when he sees Remus grinning and nude standing at the side of his bed. He’s clutching Virgil’s ruined-looking voodoo doll, still dripping with the very semen Virgil can feel inside of him.

Remus holds the doll sideways, but tilted partially upward, in order to prevent any of his come from leaking out.

Virgil doesn’t have the energy to question why Remus isn’t being a messy little freak for once, too completely and utterly fucked out of his mind to say really anything, and so can only muster up the energy to grumble “a warning would have been nice,” even though he very much enjoyed the lack of such.

Remus doesn’t bother pretending to be sympathetic though, only able to fake a pout for a moment before cackling instead and pushing Virgil onto his back, crawling between his legs as he claims that he didn’t get a warning when Virgil did it to him. And Remus - disgusting as usual - doesn’t waste any time before holding the doll legs-spread above Virgil’s face, tauntingly musing “your little look-alike is all messy,” as a glob of semen falls from the fabric and onto Virgil’s cheek, making Virgil cringe.

Virgil’s face goes red, but he half-heartedly reaches up to push Remus’s wrist away, grumbling “don’t be weird.” But he’s tired and weak, and he can’t do much to stop Remus from making the doll pretend to kiss Virgil’s nose, before having the plush’s face bump against Virgil’s lips instead.

“You know, you should help clean up this mess,” Remus then says, which has Virgil’s eyes snapping towards Remus’s face.

“What?”

Lips stretching into a wide grin, Remus’s eyes gleam with mischievous delight. His free hand slowly rubs over Virgil’s nipple, which causes Virgil to let out a small moan, as he states “it’s your fault the doll got ruined in the first place. You’re irresistible, after all! It only makes sense that this doll of you is irresistible too.”

He runs his finger up Virgil’s chest, before using his pointer and his thumb to force Virgil’s lips apart.

“Now be a good boy, and keep your mouth open, unless you’d rather me make a mess of your face.”

His threat hangs loosely in the air as he lowers the doll to Virgil's mouth, pressing it's backside against him. Immediately, Virgil's tongue is assaulted by the bitter taste, and his ass is assaulted by the phantom feeling of him cleaning himself out. It's weird and hot simultaneously, making him moan against the doll's hole, dragging his tongue deeper into it and sucking the semen out. 

Remus, deciding to be nice, grinds his palm over Virgil's shaft, easily working him back up until he's shivering and leaking, eyes rolling back into his head as he eats himself out. 

Until finally, Remus squeezes the doll's midsection, rubbing his fingers against the wet muscle through the fabric and making Virgil suddenly jolt and cry out in pleasure, before Remus works him to another quick orgasm, making a bigger mess of his chest as Remus pulls the doll away. 

Grinning with satisfaction, Remus throws the doll onto the nearby nightstand, and lays atop Virgil's pudgy stomach, making Virgil groan at the feeling. 

"Feel good?" Remus asks, swiping his thumb along the corner of Virgil's lips in order to scoop up some leftover come, before pushing it into his own mouth. 

Virgil huffs. "I'd feel better if we showered." 

Remus sticks his tongue out, and squeezes his eyes shut, though he makes no move to get up and leave. "Gross. Count me out!" 

Despite this, they stay laying together, Virgil too blissed-out to move, and Remus basking in the mess. And they stay cuddled up like that for as long as possible, just nestled up against each other, sticky semen between them. 

Chapter Text

"You're not traveling?" Virgil asks, looking up from his spot on the couch at Janus who limps towards a beanbag chair, which he promptly collapses onto, leaning his cane up against the wall.

Janus huffs out an amused laugh at the question. "Me? Traveling? Unless you're paying for a plane ticket, I'm not going anywhere."

Virgil frowns at that answer, turning back to his phone. "Yikes. I'll pass."

"What about you? An entire week free of lectures, and you're spending it in our dorm with me? Truly, I'm honored."

Nose scrunching up in disgust, Virgil bitterly glares at Janus. "Don't get an ego," he hisses, clicking his phone off as he turns onto his side, so that he and Janus are properly facing each other. "I can't afford to travel, either. Not many places I would go, anyway."

"I never got the hype, personally," Janus says, leaning back onto the bean bag, stretching his bad leg out in order to ease some of the ache in it. His hand rubs up and down his thigh, fingers pushing deep into the muscle and giving himself quite the lackluster massage. "Once I leave this place, the only way I'm coming back is kicking and screaming."

Virgil snorts. "Getting a taste of freedom makes you realize how gross college is."

"Gross" isn't exactly the word Janus would use. He'd use "annoying" or "inconvenient" or "classist" to describe this place, but he supposes gross is synonymous enough. What was gross was the looming threat of wasting money. Sure, he and Virgil both managed to secure rather impressive scholarships (Janus obviously through cheating, though he had to commend Virgil on stressing about grades so much he turned himself into a straight-A high school student, and a tired, struggling college student), but they still had to pay for transportation, school resources, and groceries.

Janus hums as he thinks of groceries.

"We should go shopping soon," he states, causing Virgil to slow blink at him.

"You should go shopping soon," Virgil corrects him, yawning. "I don't need anything."

"You need to eat."

Virgil makes a face. Janus stares deep into his countenance as he does, trying to decipher the emotions swelling inside of Virgil, of which must be intense enough to have Virgil frowning so deeply, furrowing his brows with such distaste, and finally looking away from Janus.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Janus then asks, and watches as Virgil groans and sits up.

Tucking his phone into his pocket, Virgil responds with "I'm not hungry. I'm going to go see Logan."

"I'll make anything you want," Janus sings, in an attempt to entice him, but Virgil is already walking away, and Janus doesn't have the energy to follow him. Janus sighs as he hears the steady thumps of Virgil tugging his shoes on, before Virgil comes back into view, slinging his hoodie over his shoulders.

Janus is left to watch as Virgil turns from him and heads out the door, leaving Janus alone in their dorm. Honestly, he's surprised Virgil wasn't leaving him alone all spring break! But, well, Janus couldn't lie and say he doesn't enjoy the company. The two of them get along like a house on fire, after all!

However, he does sigh as he thinks of the few leftovers he has in the fridge, and how Virgil never seems to have any food to pick at.

"Well, let's see what we have," Janus then grunts, as he pushes himself up, clutching to his cane for support and taking heavy steps towards the kitchen.

They do need to go grocery shopping, but it's not like their kitchen was bare.

Janus hums as he leans against the counter, pulling open a cabinet and sort of digging around. It was a little after noon, so cooking right now wasn't urgent, but the sooner he started, the larger the guarantee that Virgil would get back sometime after he was done, and not in the middle of his cooking.

He finds a decent-sized bag of three-cheese pasta, and a couple jars of alfredo sauce, and sets them beside him.

Into that pile also goes a bag of tortillas, some uncooked hamburger, taco seasoning, salsa, lettuce, a box of biscuit mix and a jar of honey, and any other scraps of food that Janus bought nearly a month ago and never touched.

He rationalizes this by saying the sooner it's all gone, then the sooner he actually has a reason to go shopping. It's better to start with a blank slate anyway. And he's sure that they'll have leftovers.

He digs around for a decent sized pot, and a pan, and fills the pot with water. Both the pot and pan are then set on the stove, and while the water is left to boil (and salted thoroughly, to prevent the noodles sticking together once they're added), Janus cuts open the pack of hamburger meat. He adds it to the empty pan along with quite a bit of butter, and some preemptive salt and pepper.

Once the oven is preheated, Janus then moves to the fridge, looking for some proper greens. He finds some broccoli, and so sets that out too. There are also a few lonely apples, and so Janus grabs those and a jar of peanut butter, deciding some fruit and protein won't hurt.

Once the water begins to boil, Janus dumps the tortellini in, giving it a proper stir and some extra salt for good measure, before using a spatula to shuffle the beef around, coating in it the taco seasoning once he feels it's properly browned.

He lets the seasoning cook into it a bit, mixing it around until he feels it's combined with the meat.

He sets the meat to the side of the stove, and focuses his attention on stirring the pasta before draining it in a colander in the sink. He lets it sit for a moment, before pouring it back into the big pot and dumping a couple jars of alfredo sauce over it, stirring in some added basil and extra pepper for good measure.

Once the oven beeps, Janus sets out the pre-made biscuits, before pushing them into the heat, and smiling happily as the warmth from the inside briefly washes over him.

Janus then grabs a couple plates, and sets a few tortillas out. With a large spoon, he scoops some beef, some shredded cheese, and some lettuce into the tortillas before wrapping them shut. He's able to make about seven tacos, with one looking comparably more pathetic due to the little amount of beef Janus was desperate to avoid wasting.

When the timer on the oven beeps, Janus shuts it off, and though he pulls the biscuits out, he puts the tacos in, using the fading heat to keep the wraps warm. Similarly, he leaves the tortellini simmering on the stove, to make sure the sauce doesn't cool too fast.

He slices the apple, and wipes out the pan, before he scoops the broccoli and some more butter into it, seasoning it with onion powder, garlic powder, and plenty of salt, and then leaving it to steam, knowing that Virgil likes his broccoli cooked soft and salty.

Grabbing a small dip container, Janus scoops some peanut butter into it, and then sets it on the plate with the apple slices.

Once everything's finished (tacos, tortellini, biscuits, broccoli, and apples), Janus can't help but chuckle. It's such a random spread of items, but Janus finds that amusing in and of itself.

Luckily, the majority of his cooking took quite a bit of time, making it so that by the time the oven is no longer warm, Virgil is walking back in the door, though he stumbles in the middle of trying to get his shoes off when he sees the different plates laid across their small "dining room" table (which was really just a small rectangular table with two chairs seated skewed next to each other).

"Woah," Virgil mutters, as he sees Janus's arm suddenly swing over the back of the couch, before Janus is using those cushions to push himself up. When he sees Virgil, he grins, before sliding off the couch and striding proudly towards the table, cane clicking loudly against the floor as he steps into their kitchen.

Virgil's wide eyes dart towards Janus's face. "Are you expecting company?"

"Just you," Janus replies, smiling wide. "You never answered what you wanted for dinner, so I took a couple guesses. Sit, please. I insist."

Janus waves towards a seat, and though Virgil looks interested in actually taking him up on his invitation, he shakes his head instead.

"I'm... uh..." Virgil scratches the back of his neck, before shrugging. "I'm not hungry."

"Oh, please," Janus responds almost immediately, rolling his eyes. "If I ate as little as you do, I'd be lying dead on the side of the road. Vultures wouldn't even pick at me! Now sit." Janus nods towards an empty chair, a bit more firm this time, which has Virgil sitting down, albeit grumbling under his breath.

"I could have eaten at Logan's," Virgil mutters.

As Janus sits down next to him, he asks "did you?"

Virgil's nose scrunches up at the question, eyes narrowing as he stares at Janus with clear bitterness, though he doesn't respond, providing Janus with answer enough.

"Now, what looks best to you?"

Virgil shrugs, uninterested in talking, it seems. He's slumped over on the table, though his eyes look from plate to plate, eating with his eyes. Rather unceremoniously, his stomach growls, and Virgil is hiding his face in embarrassment. Janus laughs at the sound.

"Oh, you poor dear!" Janus exclaims, teasingly. "Have you eaten anything in the past week?"

"Yes!" Virgil insists, still keeping his face obscured. "I... snack... when I can."

Janus gives Virgil a look. "Mhmm."

Then, he's grabbing the pot of pasta, and pulling it forward. The pot itself was still warm, though not scalding anymore, and so Janus slides it into his lap, smiling at the warmth spreading through his thighs, while simultaneously giving Virgil a clear look at the contents, letting him see just how full the pot was.

Grabbing a nearby fork, Janus stabs the prongs into a piece of tortellini, and holds it up to Virgil's mouth, with a cooing "open up!"

Immediately, Virgil flushes, but responds with "no, Janus. I can feed myself."

Janus just tsks at him. "Oh, come on. If I let you feed yourself you'd be out of here in five minutes, having taken two bites. Now, open up. Let me feed you until you're full."

To some extent, Virgil feels like this is inappropriate. Somehow Janus manages to speak with sensual undertones, of which make Virgil doubt what his real intentions are. But, he tries to tell himself that Janus merely made food for him to eat - nothing more - and the fact that he's having Virgil eat from his hands is just a way to embarrass him. they do have a rival-like dynamic after all.

And so, Virgil slowly opens his mouth, allowing Janus to push the bite of pasta inside.

As soon as it hits his tongue, Virgil's eyes are fluttering shut, and he's letting out a shaky gasp while the alfredo sauce essentially melts into his mouth, mixing with his spit as he chews, until he finally swallows it down, having savored the short experience thoroughly.

Janus smiles at him smugly. "Good?" he teases, and Virgil has to resist the temptation to hide his face at the mocking question.

"I guess," Virgil replies, though he knows he's underplaying it.

This pasta is essentially the best thing he's tasted in weeks, if not months. Though, to be fair, there isn't much to compare it to. He doesn't eat that often after all.

Janus is already stabbing a few more pieces of pasta onto his fork, more than just one this time, as Virgil gets three pieces pushed past his lips. The excess has him frowning, but he chews anyway, biting slowly so that the cheese stuffed inside the noodles pours out onto his tongue, which he then greedily swallows down.

His stomach grumbles, craving more.

"Good boy," Janus coos at him, which has Virgil choking briefly, and finally deciding he has to ask about what Janus seems to be implying.

When Janus brings another bite to his mouth, Virgil turns his head away.

"Are you..." Virgil licks his lips, anxiety coursing through him as he starts to wonder whether he's severely misinterpreted the situation. "Are you flirting with me?"

Janus smiles at the question, eyes gleaming in amusement. "Maybe. Maybe not." Janus twirls the fork around and around in his fingers, still hovering them centimeters away from Virgil's lips. "Is it good?"

"The flirting, or the food?"

Janus chuckles softly. "Both."

Virgil doesn't answer, playing with his hands in his lap. He still doesn't lean in to take a bite, and so Janus eats the pasta for him, dragging his teeth noisily along the metal as he cleans it of sauce, before pulling the fork slowly out of his mouth.

Using the prongs, Janus pushes the fork against Virgil's chin, tilting his head upwards. Virgil flushes at the action, while Janus studies him with concentrated, considerate eyes.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Virgil blinks at the question. "What?"

Janus pulls back, leaning back in his chair. "Do you want me to stop?" he repeats, the question genuine. "You said it yourself; you don't need me to feed you. If you'd like me to stop, I'll eat my share and head to my room. But if you don't..."

Janus's fork stabs into a piece of broccoli instead, and he blows on it softly, steam wafting towards Virgil's face. He then holds the piece out for Virgil to bite.

Virgil feels embarrassed. His hands grasp at each other, as he looks between the food and Janus, who is waiting patiently for Virgil to choose. And the fact all the pressure is on him only amplifies Virgil's humiliation, because he knows what he wants, and it's the more vulnerable option.

So, Virgil leans forward slowly, and bites the piece of broccoli, pulling it off the fork and chewing slowly, avoiding eye contact with Janus all the while. Though, in the corner of his eye, he can see Janus smiling happily.

"Last question," Janus begins, fork clanking against the bowl the broccoli was piled in, "but may I touch you?"

Virgil properly chokes.

He has to hit his chest with his fist in order to dislodge broccoli mash from his throat, and then stares up at Janus, wide-eyed. Janus merely laughs at his flustered display, and stands to grab him a glass, which he fills with water before handing it to Virgil, who accepts it with a muttered "thanks."

He chugs about half of it down, swishing a bit in his mouth until it's lukewarm before swallowing that too, before pressing his knuckles against his mouth, head bent down as he tries to hide his expression.

"Mhmm."

"What was that?" Janus asks, dramatically holding his hand to his ear. "I didn't hear an enthusiastic 'yes.' I can't proceed without one!"

"Yes," Virgil croaks out, coughing immediately after in an attempt to clear his throat.

Janus gives him a pleased smile, and as he cocks his head to the side, he goes "good boy," making Virgil's body feel immediately hot and flustered.

Virgil shrugs off his hoodie, letting it fall back against the chair.

"How about we try the taco next, hm? You'll have to hold it yourself, is that okay?" Janus feigns a pout, as he drags the plate of tacos closer. "These two have meat, cheese, lettuce, and salsa, these two just have meat, cheese, and lettuce, and the other three only have meat and cheese. Take your pic."

"Just the... just the meat and cheese," Virgil mumbles, but flushes a dark red when Janus nods towards the plate with a grin and a raised eyebrow, clearly expecting Virgil to grab it himself. And Virgil does, slowly, trembling slightly due to being stared at so intensely, while additionally waiting with anticipation for Janus to touch him like he asked.

Virgil holds the taco with two hands - one at the base, to prevent any spillage, and the other around the middle - before bringing it up to his mouth and taking a rather pathetic bite, chewing slowly. A bit of beef juice trickles down his chin. Before he can move to wipe it, Janus is already leaning over him.

He supports himself by holding onto the arm of Virgil's chair, while his hand comes up to cup Virgil's cheek. With his thumb, he wipes away the spillage, before he sucks his thumb into his own mouth, humming afterwards.

"Hm. I did quite a good job on the meat, it seems," Janus comments, ignoring just how close he is to Virgil's face. He was close enough to hear Virgil's breath hitch, and feel the hot air from his mouth against his own lips. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," Virgil mumbles. "It's good."

Janus backs up, so suddenly Virgil is almost worried he's falling. Luckily, Janus just sits back on his chair, though he does scoot it closer so that his and Virgil's knees are lightly pressed together.

Janus stares at Virgil. "Just good?"

"Great," Virgil breathes, shakily, before busying himself taking another bite in order to hopefully avoid any further questions.

His teeth easily sink into the soft tortilla, and easily mash up the greasy beef. It does taste really good - as good as a store-bought seasoning packet could make it. Still though, it was more so Janus's consideration when making tacos that had less texture, as if he undoubtedly planned for Virgil to have some. Clearly, he was cooking with Virgil in mind, but it still made Virgil red in the face.

Janus's foot caresses his ankle as Virgil finishes up his taco, all but cramming the last bite into his mouth and swallowing eagerly, before looking up at Janus.

"Another taco?" Janus asks, as Virgil drinks the rest of his water.

"Whatever you want to give me."

Janus smiles, proudly. "Ah; not so against eating now, I see." The toe of Janus's boot slides Virgil's pant leg up, exposing half of his hairy calf. "Do you want some more broccoli, then? Or something sweeter."

Janus grabs an apple slice, dipping one end in quite a hefty amount of peanut butter. Virgil leans forward, expecting Janus to bring it to his mouth, only for Janus to bite down on the bare end himself, teeth sinking into the crisp innards of the slice, juice already beginning to spill down Janus's chin.

Virgil stares at him, dumbfounded.

Crossing his legs over each other, Janus merely sits smugly. With his pointer, he beckons Virgil forward. Virgil gulps.

Tugging at the collar of his shirt, there's a clear amount of hesitation in Virgil's movements, and he lets out a shaky breath as he pulls his chair closer to Janus, spreading his legs and allowing Janus's knees to slot between them as he leans forward, before taking the apple slice into his own mouth, biting down just past the peanut butter.

Unfortunately, it seems to be a trap, as before Virgil's teeth can fully cut through the apple to separate his part from Janus's, Janus is leaning forward and casually pushing their lips together, his eyes lightly pressed shut. Virgil's own eyes go wide, but he still finds himself scooting to the edge of his seat to press their faces further together, and unintentionally push Janus's knees against his crotch (though Virgil doesn't mind the pleasure).

Janus's mouth moves rather sweetly against his own, before he's using his tongue to push the entire apple slice into Virgil's mouth, and pulling away, a string of spit connecting his lips to Virgil's.

Before Virgil can even start chewing, Janus is reaching for Virgil's hips, and swiftly pulling Virgil into his lap. Virgil basically chokes as his thighs straddle Janus's legs, his hands finding Janus's shoulders.

He's quick to chew and swallow the apple - peanut butter sticking to the roof of his mouth as he gulps it down - before his hands grasp Janus's shirt.

"Janus?" Virgil whispers, face aflame with bright red embarrassment.

"This is okay, right?" Janus asks, pushing his cheek against Virgil's collarbone. "You can still eat in this position, can't you?"

Virgil lets out a shuddering breath. "Yes. To both."

Janus's hands rub Virgil's hips, murmuring a soft "good boy," making Virgil shiver as Janus reaches for the plate of biscuits, and opens his bottle of honey, drizzling some overtop the flaky bread.

Janus is overly confident, acting like this is a completely normal situation. While he pours honey over the biscuits with one hand, the other continues to rub and squeeze Virgil's hips, growing more and more confident the longer it lingers on Virgil's body. He's gentle up until he closes the cap on the bottle, before setting it aside and pushing his thumb into Virgil's mouth without warning.

"Got some residue on my finger," Janus explains with a shrug. "Clean it off for me? I don't want my hands to be all sticky, after all."

Virgil's lips close around the digit, and he does indeed lick over it, albeit shyly, going until Janus pulls his thumb from Virgil's mouth and reaches for a biscuit instead. He picks one up and holds it to Virgil's lips, wrapping his other arm fully around Virgil's waist to keep him secure.

Face flushed, Virgil lets out a heavy breath, before leaning forward and taking a bite. The sweet honey socks nicely into the soft biscuit, which is easy to chew and dry when it's swallowed.

After Virgil's eaten the whole piece, Janus pushes multiple fingers into his mouth, urging him to clean the stray drops of honey from them.

Virgil does so obediently.

As soon as he's done, Janus is grabbing another biscuit and pushing it against Virgil's lips, with a comment of "hurry up, won't you? As soon as you're done with this, you can have some more pasta. How does that sound?"

"You cooked a ridiculous amount," Virgil complains in between bites, despite Janus's endless encouragement. "If you really want me to eat more pasta, then I think maybe you should stop shoving biscuits down my throat!"

"I didn't ask what you think," Janus smoothly replies, as he presses the half-eaten, honey-covered biscuit harder against Virgil's face, making a mess of the corner of his lips. "If you're complaining now, then you'll definitely be overwhelmed later."

Janus's mouth settles into a lazy but smug smile, fully aware of what's yet to come, while Virgil's left to assume if Janus is implying something sexual, or just that he's going to stuff Virgil full of food.

Pushing Virgil to finish the biscuit, Janus shoves his fingers back into Virgil's mouth the moment it's all swallowed, once again making Virgil clean them of honey. However, unlike last time, this time he escalates just how sensual it is, as he not only has Virgil suck his fingers clean, but also pushes his pointer and middle finger unnecessarily far into Virgil's mouth, tangling his clean hand in Virgil's hair to prevent him from pulling away.

Sweet praise spills from Janus's mouth. "Oh, you're doing so good," Janus comments, with a slight lick of his lips. "Clean my fingers properly." Despite his gags, Virgil works his tongue over Janus's fingers, and in response gets a "good boy. There you go. You're so pretty, you know."

Janus thinks Virgil is even more pretty afterwards, after he sees the spit connecting Virgil's mouth to his fingers, almost tempting him to gag Virgil again.

But then, he wipes Virgil's spit against his own cheek, just to clean his fingers off.

Virgil cringes at the feeling, before watching Janus pick up his fork once more and stab it back into the pot of pasta. Just like when they began, multiple pieces were being pushed into his mouth. Bite, after bite, after bite, until Virgil feels as though he's eaten a bowl's worth. It'd definitely be considered a big portion, especially compared to what Virgil's used to eating.

His stomach grumbles in protest, his previous hunger having been adequately satiated. But Janus wanted it to be more than adequate.

The fork stabs into a few pieces of broccoli after Janus decides Virgil's had enough pasta, but after a bite or two of the vegetables, he turns his head away.

"I'm full," Virgil insists.

"But I made all this food," Janus gently prods, trying to encourage Virgil to keep going. "There's still so many tacos... so much pasta! You've only had one apple slice, and only two biscuits!" Janus presses a kiss to Virgil's neck. "Surely, you can handle a bit more. It'd be such a waste if you didn't, after all."

That's not true in the slightest; both of them would appreciate the leftovers.

Still though, Virgil bitterly replies "why do you care, anyway? You've never been this weird about food!" Virgil crosses his arm over his chest, before adding "and it's your fault there's so much in the first place! It's a ridiculous expectation to think I could eat half of this, let alone all of it-!"

Abruptly, Janus is cutting Virgil off with a firm kiss, holding Virgil long enough to render him breathless, before pulling away and rubbing his thumbs into Virgil's hips. His hands squeeze Virgil's love handles, before moving to grope his stomach instead.

"Shh," Janus coos, in an attempt to calm him down. "Just trust me. Let me take care of you. Let me do whatever I want to you." The smile Janus gives him makes Virgil's cock twitch with excitement, pressing uncomfortably against his boxers.

"Let me make you feel nice, and good, and full."

To emphasize his point, Janus runs his hand lightly over Virgil's bulge, his full intentions being to tease him. Virgil shifts in his lap, letting out the smallest of whines.

He hadn't even realized he was hard, and he's embarrassed by it greatly, stammering as he says "I don't- I don't know if I can let you."

Janus laughs softly, kissing the side of Virgil's face, before whispering "you will," and gathering some more broccoli onto his fork, pushing it into Virgil's mouth and humming happily when Virgil chews without protest.

Virgil's hands slide down Janus's shoulders and rest on his upper arms as Virgil lowers his head, finally noticing that Janus is just as hard as he is. It has him briefly choking on the broccoli he's halfway through swallowing, but Janus just chuckles when he sees that Virgil's realized.

"Surprise!" Janus teases, snickering under his breath. "I think you're attractive. Is that such a shock?"

"Yes," Virgil answers, mouth feeling dry. Still though, he's not upset by this revelation.

"Have some more apple slices, Virgil," Janus then says, completely moving past what Virgil is stuck focusing on. "You could use a bit more sugar." Janus scoops some peanut butter onto a slice, as he adds "and a bit more protein."

As he shoves the apple slice into Virgil's mouth, his hand works on undoing the buttons on Virgil's skinny jeans, easily working the zipper down afterwards until Janus has enough slack to dip his hand into Virgil's boxers and casually pull his cock out, even if Virgil flushes dark at the action.

Before he can tuck his head in Janus's shoulder, however, peanut butter is being smeared against his lips, and Virgil has to rush to open them to avoid a mess being made over his face.

"Janus," Virgil whines, mouth full, but Janus just shushes him as he wraps his hand around Virgil's cock, stroking slowly.

"Keep eating for me, Virgil," Janus says, voice soft. "Eat just a little more, okay? You can handle a little more. I want you to feel so, so full." He's already in the process of pushing another apple slice towards Virgil's mouth before he can even swallow the first one, and yet Virgil still opens his mouth to accept it, even if it fills his mouth with more juice and peanut butter.

As soon as Virgil swallows, another slice is at his mouth, yet after that one Janus is holding yet another taco to Virgil's lips, very carefully trying to keep either side from dumping meat over their laps.

"Hold this for me, won't you?" Janus urges, praising Virgil when he takes the taco into his hands.

Virgil stares at the tortilla, hesitant. He was honestly full, but at his hesitance, Janus just rubs Virgil's stomach, and then drags his thumb along the slit of Virgil's cock.

"I won't make you eat any more of the food I made once you finish that," Janus assures him, kissing Virgil's chest through his shirt. "Just eat that one last thing, yeah? You can do that for me, can't you?"

Virgil sucks in a sharp breath. "Yeah."

"You're my good boy, aren't you?"

Virgil tucks his face into his shoulder, shyly obscuring the way he's biting his bottom lip in embarrassment. However, Janus only prompts him further.

"Aren't you?"

"Yeah."

Janus squeezes the base of Virgil's cock, drawing a loud moan from the latter. "Say it. Say you're my good boy."

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut, warmth and humiliation filling his body. Still, he gasps out "I'm- I'm your good boy!"

"Good. Now eat."

And Virgil does. He's slower when consuming this taco, struggling to bite into it and chewing slowly, both due to feeling full, but also because half of his mind is preoccupied with Janus's hand on his cock, rubbing him so carefully, being slow enough as to not get Virgil too close too soon, but being quick enough to actively distract Virgil from what he's trying to do.

Virgil's chewing is often interrupted by his own moans, struggling to swallow without making some sort of pleasured noise, while he listens to Janus sigh in delight as he leans against Virgil, as if trying to hear the food be pushed down Virgil's throat.

Halfway through the taco, Janus's hand speeds up, rewarding him for his obedience. Virgil cries out - voice muffled and tainted spit dribbling down his chin. Despite finding it gross, Janus uses his sleeve to wipe it away, before kissing Virgil's mouth, tasting the meat on his lips. He pulls away shortly after, and Virgil takes another bite.

This time, Virgil’s cut off by a loud cry spilling from his own mouth as Janus’s hand inexplicably speeds up, being more firm and direct with allowing Virgil pleasure. It makes it even harder to eat, and yet in response Virgil is cramming the last bit of the taco down his throat during it, rushing to finish it up.

As soon as that last bit is devoured, Janus is praising him, soft words being spoken to Virgil in the form of praises and compliments.

“Good boy,” Janus says, stroking Virgil quicker in response, and watching as Virgil’s head falls back in a pathetic cry. “You ate so much! And we’ll still have leftovers, so you can have some more tomorrow, too. How does that sound?”

“Good!”

Janus smiles, pulling Virgil closer by his waist as he continues stroking him, Virgil’s ass running over his bulge.

“You did so well,” Janus compliments him, keeping his voice quiet and unobtrusive, encouraging Virgil to focus more on his pleasure than Janus’s words. “Do you feel nice and full?”

Virgil whimpers at the question, avoiding eye contact with Janus. “Yes!”

Janus’s hand rubs his hip adoringly, while his other fingers squeeze firmly around Virgil’s cock, pumping his length hard and fast, pushing him closer and closer to his climax. “Good,” Janus breathes, eyes trained on Virgil’s rather expressive face, soaking in every expression Virgil makes. And Virgil makes a variety of them; from creased eyebrows to a pink flush that spreads over his face and down his chest, he’s undeniably pretty.

“Close!” Virgil then gasps, drawing Janus out of his focused state and causing him to stroke with more fervour.

He works Virgil up to his orgasm, and then continues to stroke him through it as Virgil comes over his hand and his lap with a loud moan, holding tight to Janus with rather messy hands - still coated in a minimal amount of grease - and rocking his hips against Janus’s palm before he stills himself after about a minute, panting quietly. Janus gives him some time to relax, before Virgil is very carefully being guided off of Janus’s lap and onto the floor.

“How about a drink?” Janus asks him, while undoing his pants, making Virgil stammer.

He isn’t opposed to Janus’s suggestion, though, as he leans forward as soon as Janus pulls his cocks out. And sure, he’s surprised that Janus has two, but it admittedly makes this even better.

With a soft hand placed on the back of his head - luckily Janus’s clean hand - Virgil is guided forward until the tips of Janus’s hard cocks are pressed against his lips, smearing pre over his mouth. Virgil’s squirming in his lap and all around pretty display had aroused Janus quite a bit.

Virgil parts his lips obediently and lets Janus slowly force both of his cocks into his mouth. His jaw aches at the stretch, but it’s not horrible. In fact, despite being a little uncomfortable, Virgil feels proud at the fact he can even get them halfway down his throat, though he does gag as the weight of them settle on his eager tongue.

“Good boy,” Janus murmurs. “Go at your own pace.”

Virgil slowly moves back, before sliding his head back down. His actions are punctuated by a wet gag, followed by a soft moan, sending pleasant vibrations up Janus’s shafts and causing him to let out a quiet moan of his own.

Janus leans back into his chair, relaxed and content as Virgil pleases him, the back of his hand pressed softly to his mouth, of which he moans into, muffling his noises considerably.

Virgil’s tongue struggles to do much but slide against the shaft it’s nestled against, but neither of them seem to have a problem with this, as Virgil’s wet mouth provides enough laid-back pleasure for Janus to be quite satisfied with Virgil’s slow but steady actions.

Virgil gets into a rhythm of bobbing his head, pulling back until his lips are wrapped around just the tips, before sliding down as far as he can go without gagging, repeating this over and over in mindless tedium, while Janus’s fingers pet through his hair, offering up physical praise in return for Virgil’s good behavior throughout the majority of the night. Honestly, Janus is just relieved Virgil didn’t flip out from the moment he found out Janus was intending to feed him; he had no idea things would escalate to this extent!

But neither of them were complaining.
Virgil’s hand comes to stroke the base of Janus’s cocks - the parts he can’t fit into his mouth - massaging them with occasional squeezes and pumps as precome spills down his throat. As Virgil swallows it down, he hears Janus’s breath hitch.

A quick glance upwards reveals Janus’s pink face. He looks calm in his demeanor and features, but his hand tightens in Virgil’s hair once or twice in the midst of Virgil’s sucking, until finally Janus reveals that he’s close.

The admission has Virgil closing his eyes in embarrassment, but bobbing his head with more vigor, determined to make Janus lose his composure. And as he continues licking and sucking, Janus gets louder. Not significantly so, but enough to make Virgil shiver.

And then Janus is coming suddenly, both of his cocks shooting a steady stream of semen down Virgil’s throat.

Virgil chokes on it, coughing and spluttering as he pulls away, but swallows whatever’s left in his mouth. He wipes the excess away with his sleeve.

“What do you say?” Janus then prompts him, causing Virgil to look at him confused. Janus laughs slightly, clarifying “when people give you a gift, you typically thank them.”

Virgil flushes at Janus’s implication, before mumbling a quick “thank you.”

Then Janus is standing up and tucking himself back into his jeans, helping Virgil off the floor and grabbing a nearby paper towel in order to help clean the rest of his face off.

“How about you go start a shower, and I’ll work on putting the leftovers away,” Janus suggests, grabbing his cane and beginning to lead Virgil out of the kitchen. Virgil fumbles with getting his jeans back up as he follows along, just wordlessly nodding his head and letting Janus take him wherever necessary.

A nice shower and a nice nap sounded quite nice after this endeavor, and Virgil quite liked the idea of going to bed with a full stomach for once.

Hopefully, Janus would cook for him again soon.

Chapter Text

Remus stares at himself in the cracked mirror before him, dressed in just his boxers.

He doesn't often have problems with his body - physical insecurities were more often relayed to Virgil or Roman - but as his eyes dance over his bony frame, he doesn't feel great about it. He's unhealthily thin (no doubt from his avoidance of any food with proper nutrients), bones protruding ever ridge and crevice. From his ribs, to his hips, to his prominent pisiforms. He was disgusting

Physically; he was disgusting, physically.

Remus's thin fingers pull at his equally thin hair, coating his digits in grease and sticky substances. No wonder no one wants to touch him.

His hands travel downwards, over his sharp jaw and nose, his sunken eyes, and his chapped lips, before carding over his spikey mustache. He must be so uncomfortable to kiss.

And then even further down, his hairy chest, arms, legs; there was even a thick trail of hair down to his boxers, where he was just as hairy underneath them. Of course he wouldn't be cuddled with; he'd probably make his companion itch like hell.

He frowns, deep and unsettlingly. Regardless of his expressions, he looked unnerving.

Smiling? Psychotic. Frowning? Murderous. Neutral? Wide-eyed and crazy, unable to stand still.

Remus's hands ball into fists at his sides, as he's filled with the impulsive urge to drive his hand through his mirror and smash it until it's nothing but a blood-covered mess on his grimy floor, and his hand was so unrecognizable that he wouldn't have to worry about his jagged nails or hitchhikers thumb.

Before he can act on his impulses though, there's a knock on his door.

"Remus," Patton gently speaks through it, followed by a couple seconds of silence. There's a pause, before Patton softly continues "Remus... are you alright?"

"No," Remus answers, quick and honest, before biting his tongue hard enough to taste metal in his mouth. He's almost embarrassed by the vulnerability in his answer, and so adds "I'm demented, remember?" in order to make it seem like a typical crazy comment.

Unfortunately, Patton can see right through him, and his door is being slowly pushed open as Patton steps inside, shutting it behind him.

"I don't mean to intrude," Patton begins, as his eyes flicker over Remus's bare body before quickly looking away, flushing as he realizes Remus is almost entirely stripped down, "but we could... I could feel your negativity pulsing through the mindscape."

Remus huffs. "God forbid I do anything."

Immediately, Patton is waving his hands wildly. "No- no!" he exclaims, attempting to overcompensation for the misconception. "That's not- it's not your fault. Well, it is your fault, but you're feeling, and that's okay! It's okay to feel, and it's okay to feel bad." Patton sucks in a deep breath, pulling his hands close to his chest, keeping his palms clasped together. "I just... wanted to come offer support, and hopefully help you feel better. If you'd be willing to let me, of course."

"You don't even know what's wrong."

Remus's words aren't accusatory; they're just blunt, though they make Patton shift his weight back and forth.

"I'd like to," Patton expresses, voice quiet. "Let me help."

Remus stares at Patton, expression unreadable, before his lips crack into a smile, splitting down the chapped lines and sending a slight stinging pain over his mouth.

"Fine," he replies, turning to face Patton fully. "Why the hell not? It'll give me something to do, at least."

Patton approaches him slowly, reminding Remus that the two of them are vaguely the same height, though wildly different in terms of anatomy. Patton was fuller-figured, with big strong arms and a nice full stomach. He was healthy, if not over-indulgent, in such a way that Remus would love the idea of burying his face into Patton's soft tummy.

He sneaks a glance at himself in the mirror; his own stomach is practically nonexistent. There's no definition. His ribs stick out further than his gut does, which has him poking his torso as he thinks about the fact he's barrel-chested.

Patton's own hand comes to grab Remus's, pulling it away from his body and holding it down by their hips.

"What's going on, honey?" Patton then asks, voice quiet and focused. He's watching Remus with his wide, baby-blue eyes. Patton's eyelashes are long and blonde. Remus's eyelashes are partially ripped out, and the rest clumped with day-old mascara. Remus is almost surprised Patton isn't recoiling as he observes Remus's features up close.

"I'm horrifying," comes Remus's honest response, voice surprisingly measured despite his overwhelming urge to shriek.

Patton looks a bit confused at the vagueness, and as he entwines their other hands - squeezing both of Remus's palms softly - he prompts "how so?"

Remus looks down at his body, feeling the underside of his chin press into his neck.

"Look at me," comes Remus's bitter response. "I'm even more disgusting to look at than I am to listen to."

"Oh," Patton breathes, face falling into a sad, sympathetic frown. "Oh, honey. Remus. That's not true in the slightest." One of Patton's big, soft hands comes to cup Remus's jagged jaw, thumbing over his cheek. "You're not disgusting to look at, nor listen to."

Remus shrugs. "You can say that. Doesn't mean it's true."

"Oh, darling," Patton sighs. "You poor thing. You poor, poor thing, and your sad thoughts." Both of Patton's hands slide up Remus's arms, and come to cup his face. Patton pushes their foreheads together, just resting against Remus for a few moments, before quietly asking "what can I do to help?"

Remus shrugs again, staying silent - an abnormality for him.

Patton just holds him for a second, before quietly suggesting "what if... we did something more on your level."

Pulling away slightly, Remus raises an eyebrow as he gets a good look at Patton's flushed face, watching curiously as Patton tugs at the collar of his polo, before undoing the cardigan around his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor.

"Maybe... maybe I'm just being influenced by your room," Patton begins, gulping as his eyes scan over Remus's body once more, more... hungry this time, "but I want to show you just how wonderful your body is. Will you let me show you? Please, baby?"

Remus just stares at him, mouth agape. Despite the self deprecation creeping into his mind, Remus can't help but lick his lips, never one to pass up on a sexual opportunity, especially one that Patton initiates.

"Please?" Patton begs, moving closer to Remus, reaching out with one hand while the other undoes his belt. "Please, let me show you how beautiful you are. Please, honey?"

As Patton fumbles with his belt and drops it, he pulls their bodies together, cupping Remus's cheek to guide their mouths close as their fronts press against each other. Remus can feel Patton panting against his lips, wanting and pleading, staring at Remus with wide, but genuine eyes, while waiting for a verbal answer. And as Remus's hands find Patton's waist, he finally nods.

"Do whatever you want," Remus replies, and he means it.

Patton kisses him needily, surprisingly cute in the way he holds to Remus, keeping him close by his hips and grinding his khakis against Remus's boxers. His thumbs rub over Remus's prominent hip bones, before sliding up his thin waist and holding tight to his ribs, just caressing each inch of skin that he can reach so long as they're so close.

"You're beautiful," Patton breathes against Remus's lips when he breaks away to take a breath. He slowly rolls his hips against Remus's, and shivers when Remus's bony hands squeeze his sides. "You feel beautiful."

"Feeling and looking are two different things."

"You look beautiful too, baby," Patton is quick to assure him, kissing Remus again and openly moaning into his mouth as he grinds their fronts together, making Remus break away this time to let out a nasally moan of his own, Patton confidently continuing to rub their bodies against each other.

"Just walking inside your room- just seeing you so... bare... had me all worked up," Patton gasps, frotting harder against Remus.

Remus wants to retort with 'it shouldn't have,' or even make fun of Patton for being so mindfully perverted, but he can't muster up the ability to say anything. Anything other than "I'm... I'm not completely bare."

That has Patton pulling away, and immediately Remus wants to grab and hold him and yank him back, keeping Patton forcefully close to him. Luckily though, Patton's eyes immediately fall towards Remus's boxers.

"You're right," Patton affirms, before he fiddles with the waistband of his own pants. "How about you get fully bare for me then, love? Can you do that? We can match."

As he speaks, Patton lets his pants and boxers fall to the floor, and his shirt follows shortly after. His plump, soft, and hairy body is fully on display for Remus to see. The amount of hair he has over his legs, chest, and even down his stomach has Remus perking up a bit. Sure, Patton has a noticeable amount of arm hair, but it's rather light and can blend in with his skin. However, the hair down the rest of his body was a bit darker, and definitely more noticeable, and Remus finds himself attracted to it.

Slowly, Remus shuffles out of his boxers, before letting Patton draw his body closer once more.

"Look at you," Patton coos, sliding his big hands over Remus's lean frame. "Why, you're quite un-bare-able."

Remus can't help but snort shortly before he's caught up in another kiss, and being guided backwards by Patton until they reach Remus's bed, where Patton's pulling away in order to properly lift Remus up and lay him back against the sticky sheets.

"Let me make you feel good," Patton pleads, crawling over Remus. "Pretty please, baby? Can I? I'll make you feel so, so good, until all of those bad thoughts are out of your head."

Remus finds himself feeling a bit flustered for once as Patton begs to make him feel good. It's a combination of the genuine pleading and the pure desperation oozing from Patton's mouth; he's being so vulnerable and so intent on giving into his urges - his own impulses to use and please Remus as he sees fit.

Spreading his legs, Remus watches as Patton easily slots his thighs beneath Patton's own, lifting Remus's legs up slightly.

Bending down to kiss Remus again, Patton is firm and sweet, but needy all the same. Remus tries to rationalize this is just his room affecting Patton tenfold - he is more susceptible to influences than others - but there's something so earnest about Patton's desire for Remus that it seems as though it's coming from his own volition.

While kissing Remus, Patton's hand blindly reaches for a bottle of lube, and after some clumsy waving and feeling around one of Remus's messy drawers, he finds one.

Pulling away, Patton makes sure to carefully coat his fingers in the substance, and then rubs it properly against his fingers, giving it a few moments to warm it up while kissing over Remus's body to help him relax.

Softly, Patton praises "you're so beautiful," as his lips trail down Remus's stomach.

"Every part of you," he continues, as he moves back up, kissing over Remus's nipples and then over his prominent collarbone. "You look so gorgeous, whether dressed up in your normal clothes, or dressed down on the bed for me. Please, Remus, please. I need you so bad."

Patton's fingers push against Remus's hole without warning, before they slowly slide into him.

Patton stretches him open gingerly, careful with each movement of his fingers, though he's not surprised in the slightest at just how easily Remus spreads around the digits. Honestly, stretching Remus open was less of a precaution, and more so just to ease them both into this, especially considering Remus's current mental state. 

Patton fingers him for just a few moments, until he sees Remus relax slightly against the bed, before he pulls the digits out. 

"Can we have sex, honey?" Patton asks, though he's already in the process of spreading lube over his shaft, coating his cock fully in the substance and stroking himself slow to the sight of Remus laying so obediently before him. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top?" 

Remus bites his lip at the display, before shrugging slightly. "Yeah, whatever. We can- you can do whatever you want." 

Patton pouts slightly at the answer, though he knows Remus is being genuine. And so, he takes a moment to lean forward, peppering kisses over Remus's face, insisting "I want a clear yes or no, sweetheart. Please?"

And at first, Remus just whines. "You already know the answer. I would never turn sex down!"

"Yes or no, baby," Patton responds, urging Remus to be clear and pick one or the other.

And this prompting doesn't stop until finally Remus is groaning out a "yes, of course!" sounding almost annoyed with how caring Patton is, and yet flushing nonetheless, as being treated so sweetly was admittedly an abnormality for him.

Patton massages his hips. "Good boy! So good, willing to let me take such good care of you," Patton coos, as his hands slide down Remus's thighs, before gently spreading them apart. "You're such a good listener. Such a good, pretty boy."

Lining up with Remus's hole, Patton takes his sweet time pushing into the former, letting Remus feel every inch and vein of his cock as it slides inside of him. All while Patton repeatedly kisses Remus's lips, breathily whispering "you're taking me so well," and "you feel so, so good," in between his own quiet groans. As his hips press flush against Remus's, cock buried fully inside of him, Patton moans "you're so good for me." 

"You're so pretty, too," he then adds, as his lips softly press to Remus's cheek. "So pretty normally, and so pretty stretched around my cock."

Remus takes in a sharp breath, but only says "you're weird. You're being weird." He moves his forearm over his eyes, attempting to obscure his face. "You're a freak, and you... you have bad taste!"

Patton chuckles, before shushing Remus. "Don't be so judgemental," he murmurs, rather playful. "Really, you're just... you're beautiful." Patton's fingers wiggle between Remus's own, grasping his hand before guiding his arm away from Remus's face, and pinning it instead to the bed beside his face. Then, he's pressing their heads together affectionately, kissing Remus's cheek before rubbing the sides of their face together, his blonde facial hair rubbing against Remus's skin, with Remus's itchy brown facial hair returning the favor.

It's only then that Patton's hips start to move.

Remus lets out a breathy moan as he feels Patton's shaft shift inside of him, legs instinctively moving to wrap tightly around Patton's wide waist. But still, he continues to self-deprecate.

"You're biased," Remus huffs, feeling Patton's hand squeeze his. "I'm not beautiful; you just have low standards."

His arguments make him sound like a broken record; his attempts at convincing Patton that he's wrong for liking him - despite that being the opposite of what he wants - feeble.

However, Patton just trails kisses over Remus's face, drifting from his cheek, to his jaw, to his earlobe, which he hovers over after a brief peck. Patton's warm breath fans over the side of Remus's face. In Remus's ear, Patton lowers his voice, and whispers "I disagree."

He pulls away, letting his lips drag across the side of Remus's countenance, before he looks into Remus's eyes.

"I disagree," he repeats, glasses sliding part way down his nose. "I don't believe that, and I don't want you to believe that either. Can you be a good boy for me, honey?" Patton rocks his hips slightly, his shaft sliding out partway, before thrusting hard back into Remus. "Just focus on the cock inside of you, baby; ignore those nasty thoughts in your head. All you have to do is lay here and look pretty, doll, and you're already more than accomplishing that!"

Remus quiets down, not responding with anything more than a moan. But before he gets the chance to articulate a response, Patton's already slow thrusts still entirely.

When Remus opens his mouth to complain, he's quickly interrupted.

"The kinder you are to yourself, the faster I'll go," Patton explains, voice firm and affectionate. "I know you like it rough, baby, and I'm willing to give it to you that way, but only if you let yourself feel good. Only if you can say nice things about your pretty body and beautiful sounds. Can you do that baby? Say nice things about yourself? Please, darling, please, let me hear you be a good, obedient boy and do as you're told." Patton kisses Remus briefly, before adding "and if you listen, I'll make sure to pound you into the mattress until you can't think at all." 

Breath trembling, Remus mumbles something incoherent, but it's not a refusal. More so a slight resignation.

So, Patton smiles, and offers Remus some simple encouragement.

"Go on, honey," Patton urges, rolling his hips against Remus's own, providing him with the bare minimum amount of friction. "You should be talking about how pretty you are, how good you feel, and how much you love feeling good." Patton's lips stretch into a cheeky grin. "You know, affirmations are proven to work wonders. Surely, the more you say you're pretty, the more you'll believe it!"

Patton leans closer, as if sharing a secret, before he continues "especially the parts about making you feel good. I'll make you feel better the nicer you are to yourself. That's a good trade off, right? Can't my precious baby boy say a good thing about himself?"

Patton's hips still, further enticing Remus to say something nice about himself.

Remus stammers, almost frustrated with Patton's teasing torture, before managing "I... I have eyes." Upon receiving a look from Patton - a raised eyebrow, as if asking Remus 'Is that it?' Clearing his throat, Remus clarifies "I have pretty eyes. Pretty red eyes."

Immediately, Patton kisses his face, praising him for being so good and specific. He does have pretty red eyes! What a good boy! And his starts thrust back up again, speedy and rough as his cock pushes deeper and deeper into Remus's ass. 

“Good boys are honest,” Patton pants in between thrusts and kisses, “and you do have pretty eyes! They’re gorgeous; I could stare into them all day long if you’d sit still long enough to let me.” His words are teasing, and he follows them up by nipping at Remus’s neck.

While he squeezes Remus’s hand with his own, his free palm slides down to hold one of Remus’s thighs, pulling Remus’s hips at an angle that allows him to thrust deeper, before going “say something else What else do you like about yourself?” and this time - after seeing the reward it gave him - Remus has much less hesitation.

“I have a well-groomed mustache,” he exclaims, starting a rather slurred list, “my fashion choices are unique, I’m good at art-”

“And you’re so, so pretty,” Patton emphasizes, smiling happily at Remus’s self-directed compliments. He sounds breathy as he speaks, a bit winded from how intensely he’s fucking into Remus, but tries to keep himself from slowing down. “Keep going, my pretty boy.”

But Remus is much less interested in answering, too focused on pleasure to care much about nitpicking himself to find something desirable among the mess, and so half-heartedly claims “I have a nice cock,” attempting to say anything that’d constitute as a compliment, solely so he can get more pleasure, only for Patton’s big hand to wrap suddenly around his shaft.

As Remus gasps, Patton starts stroking him torturously slowly, but it makes Remus feel so incredibly good anyway.

“You’re right, dear,” Patton says, voice soft, “you do have a nice cock. Nice to touch. Nice to stroke. Nice to squeeze.”

His hand squeezes around the base of Remus’s cock, and he watches as Remus tries to buck his hips, craving more of his touch. However, he’s unable to move far due to his thighs wrapped around Patton’s wide waist, and with Patton’s cock shoved deep inside of him.

“Go faster!” Remus begs, though it’s unclear whether he’s talking about Patton’s hips or his hand.

Patton shushes him quietly. “I’ll speed up when you say something nice. What else can you compliment, hm? Your gorgeous chest? Your pretty legs?” Patton’s voice trails off for a moment, before remerging with newfound delight as he leans back, saying “or, what about the fact the outline of my cock looks wonderful when pressed deep inside of you!”

With their fronts no longer pressed together, Remus - upon sitting up on his elbows - is able to stare wide-eyed at the noticeable bulge when Patton’s big cock thrusts into him.

Remus cries out in pleasure, falling back onto the mattress with a pathetic noise, moaning shamelessly about how hot that visual is.

Laughing softly, Patton kisses Remus’s chest. “Can you make a compliment out of this, love? Say something nice about yourself so I can go faster? Come on, my good boy, I know you can think of one. You’re so creative and interesting with your words.”

Pre spills out of Remus’s cock, and onto Patton’s hand, though it’s hardly noticeable as it’s quickly swept up and quickly rubbed back along Remus’s shaft.

Half-coherent, and overwhelmed with warmth, Remus stammers “I love how- how thin I am! So I can- fuck -see your cock inside of me!”

“Good boy! My good boy.”

Patton’s hand speeds up in tune with his thrusts, pounding and pushing Remus closer and closer to the edge, until his thighs are squeezing tightly around Patton’s midsection as his head falls back with a cry. His orgasm crashes into him hard and fast, and he comes over Patton’s hand and his own chest, with Patton working him through it, praises spilling out of his mouth.

Patton slows for a few minutes, giving Remus time to catch his breath, as the latter goes limp against the sheets, but speeds up after. His hand slowly touches Remus’s cock, gently working it back up.

Remus whines out of confusion.

“I need to come too, silly,” Patton simply explains, smiling warmly. “And you’re just so pretty when you come. Your orgasm face is so perfect. I want to come to that sight, but I wasn’t close enough to do so this time. So… you’ll just have to come again!” Patton properly gives Remus’s cock a few strokes, feeling the limp shaft slowly harden in his palm. “That’s okay, right, baby?”

Moaning at the idea, Remus nods immediately. Another orgasm sounds amazing, and Patton’s still thrusting into him anyway. So, Remus wills away his refractory period (best he can, anyway, by just telling himself under his breath to hurry up and get hard again), and represses an overstimulated whimper as Patton begins stroking him with more fervor.

As Patton touches his cock, the tip of his own shaft suddenly slams into Remus’s prostate, causing a sudden moan to be ripped from Remus’s throat, back arching off the bed.

Panting, Patton whimpers “I feel so good, honey. I feel so- so good using your body. Such a pretty body. So, so amazing.” He’s breathy and stammering, a pink flush overtaking his round cheeks and spreading down the length of his chest. His blonde hair is slicked against his forehead. And truthfully, Remus thinks Patton’s pretty.

And, well, if someone this gorgeous thinks Remus is attractive, then, it must be true to some extent!

All the pleasure Remus is receiving is just so much more intense now that he’s already had one orgasm. Furthermore, he feels overly blissful and delightfully braindead as both post-orgasm fuzziness and pr-second-orgasm excitement consumes him. He can’t possibly think negative thoughts when he’s so distracted by how good he’s feeling!

Patton tightens his hold on Remus’s hand, and on Remus’s hip, holding him tight as he thrusts directly into Remus’s prostate.

“So good,” Patton praises, on a loop, "so, so good. So, so pretty."

Visibly, Patton looks as though he might finish at any given second; whimpers spill from his lips, and sweat gleams as it rolls down his red face. He’s very clearly pleasured, and Remus moans as he feels his second orgasm quickly building.

“I’m so, so close,” Patton groans, kissing over Remus’s jawline as he strokes Remus’s cock messily. “Please, come for me. Let me see you come for me, baby. Please.”

Voice quivering, and sounding as though he might cry if denied the privilege, Patton begs Remus to finish. And though Remus could probably bite back his orgasm for another minute or two, he doesn’t even bother trying, instead letting his head fall back with a moan of his own as he reaches his orgasm.

Once again, he comes over Patton’s hand and his own body, except this time Patton’s grunting out an obscenity under his breath and finishing inside of Remus. They come at the same time.

Patton fucks Remus through his orgasm, before panting above him, leaving Remus a mess of oversensitivity and fullness. The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, before Patton kissing Remus gently.

“Good job, baby,” Patton murmurs, as he keeps their faces pressed together. “Good boy.” 

Then, Patton's pulling out, making Remus whine.

Feeling the semen pour out of him, and drench the bed between his legs, Remus can’t help but squirm, but quickly stills himself when Patton starts to scoot himself further back on the bed. Curiously, Remus stares at him, watching as he leans down so that his head is between Remus’s legs, before grinning and cursing when Patton wordlessly takes Remus’s cock into his mouth, big, blue eyes staring up at Remus as he does so.

Moaning weakly, Remus struggles to keep himself semi-upright, but doesn’t want to miss out on this view.

Patton’s tongue licks over his limp shaft until it begins to slowly harden, Remus tangling his hands in Patton’s curly hair, giving him gentle - or, his version of gentle - affection, while watching Patton lovingly go down on him, determined to milk a third orgasm from Remus’s spent cock.

Remus lets Patton enjoy the intimacy, though his impulses tell him to push Patton away. He’s too sensitive; every touch or caress of his body feels so intense, but he doesn’t move an inch. Patton’s mouth feels deceivingly good around his slick shaft, and though Remus’s body is trembling with oversensitivity, he wants this just as much as Patton does. To go mindless. To be completely pleasured. He is so, so pretty, after all, and he deserves to come a third time just for looking so good. 

Ultimately, Remus submits wholeheartedly, with lazy moans spilling steadily from his mouth.

His overworked cock is a twitching mess in Patton’s mouth, though Remus doubts it’s leaking anymore, his balls already emptied of their fill.

His hands tug at Patton’s hair, crying out Patton’s name with a broken voice followed by multiple swears. Patton flushes, swallowing around Remus’s cock, bobbing his head steadily until Remus is shuddering, pushing Patton’s head down and coming once more, a few beads of come spilling from his slit, though they’re hardly noticeable as they splash against Patton’s tongue.

Finally, Remus goes limp against the sheets, letting himself fall against the mattress with heavy breaths and eyes closed as Patton crawls over him.

Remus peeks at Patton when he feels a finger brush his thin brown hair from his face.

“You’re pretty,” Patton says, voice barely above a whisper.

Remus stares at him, before snickering, before laughing outright. With a surprising amount of strength, Remus pushes Patton onto the bed next to him, and curls up against his squishy chest.

“You can tell me I’m pretty while we cuddle,” Remus states, the come smeared over his abdomen being rubbed against Patton’s stomach and the blankets between them. Remus’s bony hands dig into Patton’s stomach, squeezing him tight. “Just hold me.”

He can feel Patton’s excitement in the way his body is immediately gathered up into Patton’s arms, and cradled firmly, with Patton continuing to whisper soft affection into the air until Remus can’t help but feel relaxed and content in his own right.

His last thought before drifting off is just how perfectly his body fits against Patton’s. 

Chapter Text

A steady hand around Virgil's throat roughly pins him to the door, making him gasp. His own hands shoot up to lightly grasp Logan's, though he doesn't try in the slightest to push the latter away. 

"What? You're not even going to fight back?" Logan's icy voice whispers, low enough for just Virgil to hear, even though they were alone in Virgil's room. "Just going to let me push you against the wall like a slut?" 

Logan's fingers tense and press firmly against the sides of Virgil's neck, limiting blood flow. 

A shaky moan spills from Virgil's mouth, as one of his palms travels up Logan's arm, before reaching his collar, where he's looping his hand around Logan's tie and pulling him closer, so that their bodies are pressed together. He's a bit annoyed at the layers of clothes separating their skin, but just feeling Logan's thigh slot between his own is enough to keep him temporarily satiated. 

Logan smiles slightly when he's brought closer, their mouths barely brushing over each other's.

"You're pathetic," Logan then says, his words contrasting his soft expression. "If you're going to stand around and let me choke you-" he emphasizes his statement by squeezing Virgil's neck harder, flushing prettily when Virgil groans, "-then you should, at the very least, admit you like it."

Virgil lets out a strained noise of pleasure, hips rutting against Logan's leg as Logan keeps him up against the wall, before closing the gap between them and kissing Virgil hard.

He pulls Virgil's remaining breath from his throat, making Virgil feel blissfully empty-headed and fuzzy, with Logan both pulling away and easing his grip moments later, graciously giving Virgil the opportunity to gulp down some much needed air.

He continues holding Virgil for a minute, watching as he steadies himself and checking with a quick nod that Virgil's still okay, before Logan's hoisting him up with ease, giving Virgil little time to wrap his body around Logan's before he's being turned and tossed onto the bed.

Landing on his back with a gasp, Virgil's delighted to see Logan crawling over him shortly after, straddling Virgil's hips.

"Say you like it," Logan demands, though it sounds almost like he's begging, as he uses Virgil's hoodie strings to pull him into another kiss, and to guide Virgil's throat back into his hand. He squeezes it again once it's in his grasp, as though that's where it belongs, and feels Virgil's breath hitch against his lips. 

Drawing Logan's body closer by his hips, Virgil whimpers "I like it. I like you."

Logan's ass is grinding over his bulge, and it has Virgil moaning, up until Logan suddenly pushes him firmly down against the mattress. With Logan's hands planted firmly on his chest, Logan says "stay there. I have to go grab something."

Virgil squirms in anticipation as Logan slides off of him and off the bed, moving towards the closet. Rather loudly, Logan rummages through the closet, before turning back to Virgil with a slight smirk. Wrapped around his hands are four pieces of black rope - three thick and bulky, and the other thinner, but longer. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Virgil can't help but suck in a shaky, excited breath as Logan makes his way back to the bed. 

"It's nice, isn't it?" Logan then prompts, as he moves to his knees between Virgil's legs, setting the thinner rope to the side for now. "Being strung up like a whore? I know you like feeling out of control; luckily for you, I like being in control."

Logan seems especially pleased that their preferences fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces, and Virgil watches as a proud smile decorates his face as Logan shoves Virgil's shirt partially up his stomach, trailing his hand briefly over Virgil's thighs, and then grinding his palm suddenly against Virgil's bulge. His constantly moving touches leave Virgil excited and worked up, which has Logan pulling away once he notices.

"Surely you can make yourself useful and undress," Logan comments, causing Virgil to immediately writhe as he pulls his clothes off. They're unceremoniously tossed over the side of the bed, while Logan watches him amused, admiring each roll and curve of Virgil's body as he strips.

"You're so eager," Logan comments, as Virgil rushes to get his boxers down. "So excited to obey."

Virgil can feel his heart excitedly thumping in his chest, looking back at Logan once he's stripped with wide, needy eyes.

"Is that it, Virgil?" Logan prompts, gently pushing Virgil back onto his back. "Are you excited to obey? Excited to be controlled?"

Smoothly scooting back slightly, Logan's cool hands wrap around Virgil's ankles and pull him slightly further down the bed. 

Logan then uses a strip of thicker rope around each of Virgil's ankles, wrapping them tightly before fastening them to the bedpost, keeping his legs spread. He's left with very little wiggle room, and when Virgil tries to pull his ankles away from the posts - mainly to check the slack - he finds he's restrained quite well. It makes him shiver, and his cock twitches with excitement.

The last rope is much longer, and Logan moves to Virgil's side in order to use it. He swiftly grabs Virgil's wrists, and ties them securely together. Then, they're being lifted above his head, and Virgil's wrists are being tied to the headboard, keeping him stretched out and immobile.

For no reason other than it looks nice, Logan uses up all the rope he can, circling it around Virgil's forearms and keeping them pressed against each other, only stopping once the thick black line is right above Virgil's elbows.

"Oh," Logan then breathes, as he turns away from Virgil's bound arms. He chuckles softly, shaking his head back and forth with amusement. "Oh. You're ridiculous."

"What?"

Logan stares pointedly at Virgil's shaft, which has grown quite hard despite the lack of friction against it. "A little bite of rope and your cock is already throbbing?" Logan drags one of his fingers up Virgil's length, pleased with the groan it pulls from Virgil's lips. "Do you think with this thing or something?"

"When I'm around you, I do," Virgil breathily responds, a playful tinge in his tone.

Logan hums, before reaching for the longer, thinner piece of rope. As he wraps it lightly around his own hand - mostly to show it off - he commands "squirm for me. I want to make sure you're properly restricted."

Virgil tries, but hardly moves at all. He flushes as he realizes just how thoroughly he's been restrained.

"Good." Logan seems proud of his work. "Now, how do you feel about adding some texture into the mix?"

Logan holds up the longer rope, and is pleased when Virgil immediately nods his head, the latter's voice cracking as he says "I feel really good about it."

Careful at first, Logan runs the rope over Virgil's chest, letting Virgil feel the significantly coarser material. While the ropes around his ankles and wrists were thick, they weren't rough by any means, but this rope was, as though it was specifically designed to be more painful and uncomfortable.

With attentive precision, Logan begins prettily wrapping it around Virgil's body. It's a bit difficult with Virgil already strung up, but he manages, leaving Virgil trying to writhe as the rope digs into his flesh.

Over his shoulders, around his back, slid between his chubby tits, around his back again, and then down again. Logan laces him up like a present, tying Virgil in such a way that his chest, stomach, and thighs are framed by the painful material. For a bit of extra fun, Logan even wraps some of the rope around the base of Virgil's cock, and ties it off there with a single secure knot.

Virgil moans, attempting to buck his hips as he feels the itchy string be fastened tightly around his shaft. It hurts, and he loves it.

Logan leans back, resting his weight on his calves. Briefly, he assesses his handiwork, before asking "is this okay?"

"Yes!" Virgil exclaims, feeling so overwhelmed, as each movement of his body rewards - or punishes - him with a burning, rubbing, painful feeling.

"Is it too tight?"

Virgil doesn't think so, and so shakes his head. "No!"

"It's going to hurt you if you move," Logan states, though he knows Virgil already knows. "It's going to dig into your skin if you move too much. You're going to be red by the end of this if you want to keep this on. Is that okay?"

"Logan!"

Logan sighs, running his hand down the length of Virgil's thigh. "What's our safeword?"

"Red!"

"And if you want to take the ropes off, but not end the sex?"

Virgil feels loving irritation build inside of him, mixing with his already intense sexual desperation. He knows Logan means well, and so answers with "yellow," but is also being overwhelmed by his own desires, and so beseechingly adds "Logan, please."

Logan smiles slightly at Virgil's insistent calling of his name, even taking a moment to affectionately stroke Virgil's face, before kissing Virgil roughly, catching Virgil off guard.

Tongue prodding into his mouth, Virgil obediently keeps his lips parted as Logan kisses him harder, hands feeling Virgil up and pushing the ropes firm against him, until Virgil has to break away from the kiss with a cry.

Logan thumbs away the spit from his lips, before pulling his clothes from his body, unintentionally giving Virgil quite the cute strip show, before Logan's clothes join Virgil's on the floor, leaving just his tie loosely wrapped around his neck. Virgil wishes he can pull on it, and pull Logan closer, and rub their bodies lewdly together.

Then, Logan's fishing through the nearby nightstand for a bottle of lube, and pouring a generous amount into the palm of his hand. He properly spreads it over his hand, rubbing it around until it's properly warmed up, all while musing at Virgil.

"You're so easily worked up," Logan teases, voice steady and low. "Just a little bit of pain and a couple ropes, and you're aching to be used."

Logan moves to stroke Virgil's cock, slowly pumping his fist up and down his length until it's coating fully in lube. The pleasure Virgil is receiving is still controlled, but Logan catches him off guard every here and there by squeezing Virgil's shaft or rubbing over the ropes already digging into his sensitive flesh.

Logan works to make sure Virgil's completely coated, before finally sliding his tie off.

Before Virgil can even blink, Logan is fastening it around Virgil's neck instead, and tightening it just enough for Virgil to feel pressure against his throat. Logan gives it a firm tug to test its viability, and is pleased when Virgil gasps. The choking sensation is amazing, and the fact it's Logan's tie makes Virgil all the more excited, though Logan loosens his grip on the fabric soon after, providing Virgil with a temporary respite.

The blue tie falls flat against Virgil's chest, tickling his squished skin between the ropes, as Logan guides his body to straddle Virgil's own. His knees rest on either side of Virgil's hips, and his ass hovers above Virgil's straining cock.

He uses one hand to keep Virgil's cock steady, intentionally grasping the base and wrapping his fingers around the rope to dig the rough texture into Virgil's shaft, before slowly lowering himself down. A soft moan escapes Logan's lips as his hips descend further, and further, until he settles fully against Virgil's pelvis. His own cock is twitching excitedly, while Virgil's cock is buried deep inside of him. 

Logan rolls his hips down against Virgil’s, and Virgil lets out a shaky breath as he stares at Logan’s gorgeous body swung over his own. He so desperately wishes he could bounce Logan up and down, but as he tugs on the rope around his hands, the binds don’t budge. And when Virgil tries to shift and rock his hips into Logan’s body, he feels the thinner rope chafing him, no doubt cutting into his skin. It makes him moan in pain, his head falling back against the mattress in an excited manner.

As Logan grinds, he swallows the spit in his mouth in an attempt to keep his composure.

“You look so pretty in just my tie,” he then whispers, as he grabs the tie, pulling at it. “Though, you don’t look respectable in the slightest. You look like a dumb, pathetic slut.”

Logan raises himself on his knees until just the tip of Virgil’s cock is inside of him, before slamming himself back down, pulling the tie hard as he does so, teasing Virgil by insisting he makes such a good toy when he’s being used properly.

Virgil moans, body jerking with both pain and pleasure as the ropes dig into him, sliding over his sensitive flesh, making him burn with pain and irritation. It feels so good, and yet Virgil’s eyes tear up as he feels different parts of his body - from his back, to his chest, to his thighs - be lacerated. As a tear rolls down Virgil’s cheek, Logan uses the end of the tie to wipe it away, before pulling the fabric again.

Virgil’s eyes roll back into his head, choking out a garbled moan as Logan sets a slow and steady rhythm with his bouncing, Virgil’s cock sliding smoothly in and out of him.

Logan has to bite back a pathetic groan as his hips fall again, his ass rubbing almost painfully against Virgil’s ropes.

And though Logan is attempting to maintain his dignity, he doesn’t bother to try and mask the fact he’s feeling good. He wants to rub it in Virgil’s face that he’s being used for Logan’s pleasure, and that Virgil’s pleasure is not only unimportant, but could almost be seen as unintentional;. Logan’s not riding Virgil for Virgil’s sake; Logan’s riding Virgil for his own sake, and Virgil’s pleasure is just an unintended byproduct.

As Logan moans, hips falling again, he pulls the tie harshly, tightening its hold on the sides of Virgil’s necks. He lets out a mocking laugh at the way Virgil’s body jolts at the sudden buzz of excitement.

Virgil tries to arch his back, but just feels the ropes around him digging hard into his skin. Pain prickles over his body as Virgil’s head pushes back into the mattress, his head feeling hot and fuzzy, up until Logan finally decides to release the tie, causing Virgil to let out a shaky moan.

“Faster,” Virgil pleads, his voice weak.

“What was that, toy?” Logan asks, slowing his pace intentionally. His fingers dig into Virgil’s stomach, massaging the fat. “Do you have something to say?”

Virgil whines, struggling to form words due to the overwhelming pleasure and painful throbbing he feels everywhere possible, but now that he’s dared to say something, Logan’s expecting him to respond fully. When Virgil looks at Logan with pleading eyes, begging him wordlessly to move, Logan stays still in retaliation, causing a pathetic cry to spill from Virgil’s spit-soaked lips.

“Please, go faster,” Virgil begs. “Please?”

Logan looks as though he’s considering it, but obliges anyway. He shifts more of his weight onto his arms in order to fuck his hips down on Virgil’s cock faster, with sweat rolling down his forehead at the exertion.

Virgil’s face contorts in pleasure, and Logan scoffs at him in response.

“Just some heat around your cock and some pressure around your throat and you’re losing yourself?” Logan teases, a smile tugging at his otherwise focused expression. “You’re so easy to ruin.”

Moaning, Virgil’s tugs at the ropes around his arms, wanting to push Logan down and fuck him properly, but he can’t. He’s at Logan’s mercy; he’s out of control, and it’s so great and yet such intense torture.

Suddenly though, as Logan’s hips descend once more, his hands firmly dig into Virgil’s body and his back arches as he cries out in pleasure. Spit dribbles down his chin as his head falls back, momentarily hiding his pretty flushed face from Virgil’s view. Until finally, Logan’s head falls forward as he moans, shifting his hips just a bit, before lifting them up and dropping them again, moaning loud as Virgil’s cock fucks into his prostate.

He swears under his breath as he works himself back up to his previous speed, making sure he hits his prostate with each descension. The sound of sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin fills the room, with Logan’s ass even starting to burn as it grinds against the rough rope tightly securing Virgil’s cock, which throbs with pain.

Virgil moans as Logan uses him, drinking in the pretty sight of Logan’s glasses slipping down his face, his hair falling around his red face, before Logan’s leaning down fully, pressing their chests together.

His teeth briefly drag over Virgil’s neck, before biting down hard just above Virgil’s skin and yanking back up, surprising Virgil as his neck is jerked with the movement. He gasps as he sees that Logan’s grasped the tie between his teeth, and holds it firmly in his mouth as he moans.

Logan’s eyes flutter shut, before snapping back open when Virgil makes a beautiful choking noise.

Virgil’s body feels hot and good, burning and stinging and yet sensitive and excited. He’s consumed by the onslaught of varying sensations, from Logan’s tight ass clenching around his leaking cock, to the soft tie around his neck squeezing the sides of it until his head is foggy.

Hot with pain and pleasure, Virgil’s confident that he’s bleeding in a place or two, but he attempts to ignore the tingling, stinging sensations prodding into his body as Logan’s hands slide up Virgil’s body, holding to his chest to keep himself steady and unintentionally rubbing the ropes around Virgil’s breasts deeper into his skin. Logan’s thighs quake with the intensity of his thrusts. His cock drips pre onto Virgil’s stomach.

With drool down his chin, Logan whimpers, before his moans grow in frequency and volume. He’s gasping, stuttering, desperately trying to form a sentence and failing miserably. And with each thrust of Virgil’s cock into his ass, both of them are moaning.

“Logan,” Virgil groans, but Logan doesn’t respond.

With his glasses at the bridge of his nose, Logan’s nails dig deep into Virgil’s skin, before he’s suddenly slamming his hips down hard against Virgil’s, forcing Virgil’s cock as deep into his ass as possible, and coming suddenly over Virgil’s chest. From prostate stimulation alone.

Tears pour out of Logan’s eyes as Logan struggles to catch his breath, shaking so hard that he would have already lost his balance and toppled over if not for how desperately he was holding onto Virgil’s body.

“Fuck,” Logan stammers, voice partially muffled by the tie still clamped between his molars. Slowly , he shifts his ass up, and then down again, riding himself slowly through his post-orgasm haze and drifting into overstimulated territory. “Fuck.”

Logan knows that he must look incredibly undignified, and to some extent he’s humiliated by his sensitivity, but as his eyes flicker to meet Virgil’s wide-eyed and flustered gaze, he feels a bit more confident in the otherwise pathetic display.

Logan drops the tie out of his mouth, and grabs it with his hand, panting. A tear falls against Virgil’s stomach, mixing in with the semen dripping down his curves.

He uses his free hand to rub circles against Virgil’s nipple, still fucking Virgil’s cock into him, albeit at a much slower pace. It’s clear he’s doing to get Virgil over the edge, but it’s working incredibly well. To add to the pleasure, Logan then tugs roughly on the tie, choking Virgil as hard as he can. Sensitive whines spill from his lips, as Logan begs “please, Virgil, be good. Be my good boy and come inside of me, like-” he pauses to catch his breath, biting back another whimper as he clenches around Virgil’s cock, “-like the slut that you are.”

Logan, leaning their faces close together, then adds “I won’t let you breathe until you do.”

And Virgil does, almost instantaneously. His orgasm is messy and amazing, and leaves Virgil seeing white as his body struggles to move, and causes more pain as a result. Come shoots into Logan, who moans obscenely, before praising Virgil softly through it, talking until Virgil’s cry is cut short and his head is falling limp against the bed.

Logan swiftly smoothes Virgil’s sweaty bangs from his forehead, and caresses his face, before he’s pulling his tie away from Virgil’s body, and dropping it on the floor.

Very carefully, Logan then undoes the thinner rope around Virgil’s body, and pulls it away from his skin. As it’s peeled away, Logan sees nice, red lines where it was rubbing against, with the ropes around Virgil’s thighs having left the deepest marks. There’s a bit of dried blood, though it’s just a bead or two.

Softly, Logan asks “are you okay?” while thumbing gently over the lacerated areas.

Virgil nods.

“Were the ropes too tight?”

“It hurt,” Virgil breathes, before smiling slightly. “But I wanted it to. I’m okay.”

Relieved, Logan nods, before finally raising his hips and letting some of Virgil’s semen spill out of him. Leaning over Virgil, Logan undoes the thick rope around Virgil’s wrists, before rolling off of him, and letting Virgil sit up.

Virgil lets out a quiet hiss of pain as he does so, feeling his injured skin sting with each movement of his body, but finds it quite pleasant. He undoes his own ankles, and then just sits, taking slow, deep breaths. Logan copies him.

Then, Logan’s hand is gently hitting Virgil’s thigh. “Can you walk?”

Virgil glances at Logan, who looks significantly more spent, and snickers softly. “Can you?”

“Probably,” Logan answers, and so Virgil shrugs and echoes his response.

Virgil slides off the bed, humming as he feels the soft sheets rub against his sensitive body, before helping Logan off the side as well, watching as Logan bitterly looks down at his thighs, as though he’s angry at the semen leaking out of him and onto the floor.

Together - both of them somewhat supporting the weight of the other - they make their way to the bathroom, where Logan starts a lukewarm shower.

He takes a moment before stepping in, with Virgil waiting beyond the curtains for just a few more moments in order to observe the marks the ropes left, before he gets into the shower as well.

Virgil makes a noise of pain as the water hits his body, but settles after a moment when Logan wraps his arms around Virgil, using his damp hand to wipe some of Virgil’s sweat away, while Virgil returns the favor. Both of their hands slowly travel the length of the other’s body, before Virgil gives Logan a brief kiss.

Both of them soak in the water for a bit, before Logan pours their body wash directly into his palm, lathering it between his hands before directly rubbing it over Virgil’s body to avoid irritating his rope burns with a loofah.

He takes his sweet time gently massaging the soapy water mixture into Virgil’s body, apologizing whenever he accidentally pushes too hard against the wounds.

“I’ll rub some Neosporin over these when we’re done,” Logan softly says, as he rinses his hands off with water and then helps clean Virgil off after.. He then turns to face the showerhead after, and hums when he feels Virgil’s arms wrap around him.

As Virgil takes over the aftercare process, his hands gently push against Logan’s stomach, pressing the semen out of him. Logan cringes at the feeling of Virgil’s come leaking down his legs, but it’s not at all unfamiliar to him. Virgil whispers soft affection into his ear as they empty Logan out, before Logan rinses his legs thoroughly under the water.

Virgil grabs his loofah and the body wash, and then runs it over Logan’s body, starting from his face and working downwards.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” Logan comments, though he doesn’t complain.

Virgil shushes him. “We take care of each other. Besides, you already look unsteady on your feet. Might as well help you wash off without the risk of you slipping and falling.”

Logan laughs under his breath as the loofah brushes over his thighs, before Virgil holds Logan around his waist and asks him to lift his foot, scrubbing the soles of his feet before the loofah is being rinsed, a lesser amount of body wash is being reapplied, and then their genitals are being washed with their own loofah respectively.

The water is shut off shortly after, and Logan steps out of the shower first and onto the bathmat, grabbing them both towels and handing Virgil his. They dry off together, before Virgil lays his towel on the toilet seat and sits atop it, Logan crouching down at his feet with two washrags (one previously dunked in cool water, and the other dry), and a small tube of Neosporin.

Logan dabs the wet rag against Virgil’s burns, the cooling sensation making Virgil feel both relief and discomfort. Then, Logan’s going over it with the dry rag, and then over the burn with some Neosporin.

He starts at Virgil’s ankles, pays extra attention to his thighs, and then does the same to Virgil’s chest and back. After Virgil’s completely covered in Neosporin, and feeling his body tingle as it cleans and heals his wounds, Logan grabs some bandages.

“I don’t need to be wrapped,” Virgil argues, but doesn’t fight when Logan does it anyway. Every irritated mark is wrapped up except for his cock, which Logan says will be fine.

Afterwards, Logan helps Virgil stand, and tiredly falls against him. Virgil glances at them in the mirror, before he catches sight of Logan’s irritated rear.

“Fuck,” Virgil curses, before whining “the rope around my cock.”

“Hm?”

Virgil’s hand travels down Logan’s back, before rubbing against his lower ass, suddenly making Logan grunt in pain. He looks in the mirror towards where Virgil’s hand is rubbing, before sighing softly.

“I got a little excited,” he states, and Virgil snickers.

Mimicking Logan’s actions, Virgil guides Logan to lean slightly over the bathroom sink, before he takes his time pressing a cold rag over the red mark, drying it off and applying ointment soon after. He can’t bandage the area, but once they get back into the bedroom Virgil makes sure to grab Logan his favourite pair of boxers, and the comfiest pants he knows Logan owns.

He wiggles into his own pajamas first, before helping Logan into his despite Logan’s insistence he can do it himself, and then crawls onto the bed.

Logan lets Virgil get into a position comfortable for him- which happens to be on his side - and then slots himself directly next to him, cuddling up against Virgil’s chest. While he tries at first to be gentle, wanting to avoid irritating Virgil’s chest, Virgil just pulls him more firmly against his body, and kisses Logan’s head until Logan’s complaints about potentially hurting Virgil are silenced.

Very lightly, Virgil feels Logan’s arms wrap around him too.

And they stay like that, the used ropes and their clothes a mess on the bedroom floor, decidedly tomorrow’s problem, with each other’s presence, affection, and comfort being right now’s blessing. 

Chapter Text

Remus is hardly paying attention to the noises beyond his bedroom door, but if he was he would hear a dual set of rapidly approaching footsteps; one set leading and determined, with the other more clumsy, as if the second pair of feet were being dragged behind and were struggling to keep up.

In fact, Remus doesn't even process the sounds echoing through the hallways until they're right outside his door, which is being promptly thrown open mere seconds later.

The force of which dramatically sends Remus's door careening into the wall, where the knob easily bypasses the first few layers of drywall, creating a jagged hole that the door seems wedged into. Remus stares at it briefly, before looking towards his door frame instead, where he sees Janus standing front and center.

Casually, Janus waltzes right in, and pulls Logan in behind him, who he's holding by the wrist.

Logan looks a bit winded - presumably from being quickly pulled down the hall - and very confused, while Janus smiles at Remus, before cutting to the chase almost immediately.

"Would you do me a favor and shrink both yourself and Logan down, love?" he asks, not sparing a single second.

Remus's eyes go wide, and a grin spreads across his own face as he pushes himself up into an upright position. "Why?" comes Remus's response, though he quickly adds "I'm down, of course, but why?"

"Because I can't do it myself, obviously."

Remus blows a raspberry with his tongue. "You know that's not what I meant. Why do you want us itty-bitty?"

"I'd like to know too," Logan interjects, as he attempts to catch his breath.

Immediately, Janus is waving away the questions. "You'll both find out soon enough," he states, before tapping his chin. "But only after you're the size of... hmmmm... little gummy bears? That seems like an adequately small size."

Remus has absolutely no hesitation flinging himself out of bed, shimmying excitedly as he again pesters "why?! Are you going to eat us? Crush us?"

Janus doesn't bother acknowledging Remus's theories. "Do what you're told, dear."

Remus's bottom lip juts out in a pout, but he reaches to grab Logan by his hips and pull him away from Janus. He makes sure they're chest to chest before concentrating, and then both him and Logan are shrinking down to Janus's desired size. They're so small Logan briefly worries about them becoming lost in Remus's rather unsanitary carpet, but luckily Janus easily plucks them up and holds them in his palm.

Then, he's heading out of Remus's room with no further acknowledgement towards the two tinies, ignoring their continuous inquiries as to what's going on.

Janus makes down the hallway, knowingly passing by his own room, before jostling the duo briefly in order to get their attention. As they're both knocked somewhat off balance, their first instinct is to look around. And in doing so, they see Janus has opened a door, and on the bed was Virgil, who was both nude and restrained, with his head lifted to look towards them, as if he was expecting their arrival.

Janus smugly holds his hand outstretched as he steps into his room, shutting the door once he's inside.

Virgil's half-hard, and he's tied spread out. Arms above his head, and ankles separated, attached to either bedpost. He's squinting towards Janus. "They're so small," he comments, looking almost a little doubtful. "I can hardly see them."

As Logan and Remus stare, mouths agape, Janus merely chuckles. "They're there," he affirms, moving closer to Virgil's side. "No need to worry."

Remus's head whips towards Janus. "You guys have been conspiring!" he dramatically proclaims, sounding both excited and upset at being left out of the loop. "And Logan and I have been left clueless! What have you guys planned?"

Janus shushes Remus. "You'll find out soon enough."

He scoots himself onto the bed, and kneels between Virgil's legs. Virgil looks increasingly excited the closer Janus gets to him, and even more excited when Remus and Logan are gently deposited onto his soft chest. Janus gently pokes Logan once they are, before retracting his hand.

"Strip, lovelies," Janus instructs them, as his hands move to undo his own clothes.

Logan obeys almost immediately, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation driving him forward, with Remus being a lot more impatient and practically tearing the fabric away from his body. He utilizes Janus's momentary distraction and crawls over Virgil's chest, making Virgil shiver at the feeling of Remus's bug-like footsteps traversing his torso, until Remus reaches his nipple.

He straddles it shamelessly, and rubs his growing cock against it, making Virgil cuss at the strange feeling of his nipple being stimulated by something so small.

As soon as Janus notices, he's rolling his eyes, and pushing Remus away despite Remus's repeated protests.

As he's dragged back to Logan's side, he argues "you never said we had to stay still!"

"Stay still," Janus immediately responds, and muses at the grumbles he gets in turn. His hands dip down his waistband and undo his pants, before his clothes are pulled the rest of the way off.

Once his naked body is on display, he reaches towards the nightstand to grab a small bottle of lube. But instead of pouring it onto his fingers, he turns the bottle upside-down above Logan's head, and - before Logan can even gasp - is squirting a drop onto him.

Immediately, Logan's covered in the slick substance, and coughs as he struggles to make his way out of what feels like a small pool of the flavorless liquid.

He looks both annoyed and unamused as he crawls away from the puddle, sliding and falling onto his chest once or twice in his attempts to escape, before glaring at Janus behind his blurry frames. Despite his bitter expression, his cock is hardening too, as the humiliation that pairs with being so small starts to properly sink in.

Then, he's sliding his glasses off, deciding the ruined, smudged frames are of little use to him now.

He tosses them away - a decision that proves to be quite smart when shortly after Janus is scooping both him and Remus up into his hand once more. Though, this time, instead of just carrying them, Janus's thumb and index finger press against his and Remus's backs respectively.

They're being firmly pushed together. Their bodies are forced to rub against one another's, and with Logan's wet figure, they slide easily up and down. Both of their cocks are stimulated by the other - whether it be shaft grinding against shaft, or over their thighs or stomach - with their chests being equally squeezed against the other. Remus's hairy body glides over Logan's pudgier one, and their heads even bump together once or twice. Their hands scramble to grab and grip the other in hopes of holding tight to something. They moan at the overwhelming pleasure they're so suddenly subjected to, making Janus chuckle as Virgil's eyes watch their helplessness with intense eyes.

Immediately, between whines of pleasure, Remus is trying to compliment Janus on such a good idea, but he only gets about half a sentence out before Janus's finger presses more directly on the back of his head, shoving Remus's face against Logan's. Their mouths hit each other, and then they're both preoccupied with kissing messily, spit and lube being passed between the two bodies and against their tongues. 

Logan submissively lets Remus bite at his lip and push his tongue roughly into his mouth, sloppily tongue-fucking his throat as they're constantly shifted and rubbed along each other's bodies.

Janus admires them for a moment, confidently continuing his motions as he holds the two above Virgil's face in order to give him a clear view.

"What do you think, Virgil?" he asks, as he squishes Remus and Logan together, making them both cry and whimper in varying degrees of pleasure and pain. "Do you like how noisy they are? How perversely they grind as desperate as they can against the other?"

As he speaks, he uses his free hand to pour a little swirl of lube over Virgil's cock directly, making Virgil gasp as his cock twitches at the sudden slick being poured along its length. Following directly after is Janus's hand wrapping around his shaft and slowly pumping his cock. Virgil whines immediately, and attempts to buck his hips up into Janus's fist.

"Aw, poor dear," Janus mockingly coos. "It was my intention to neglect you, love. So let me make up for it by getting to the real fun." 

All of a sudden, Janus's fingers come to a halt, stopping the delicious friction between Remus and Logan's bodies. Remus whines while Logan looks around curiously, aware there must be a reason. And sure enough, they're both being more casually tossed back onto Virgil's chest; their nude, flushed, and sweaty bodies on display for Virgil to see, provided Virgil strains to raise his head.

Remus and Logan look between each other, before they turn to watch Janus's big hand stroking Virgil's even bigger (and growing) cock as Virgil's fully worked up.

However, as he strokes, Janus leans down close to them, wordlessly licking a stripe up Remus's body.

Without warning, his forked tongue glides over Remus's miniscule form, causing Remus to cry out as the moist muscle pushes against his cock, over his nipples, and then over his face, coating him in a thin visage of spit. Then Janus is licking him again, though this time he specifically slides his tongue underneath Remus's ankles, and then runs it under Remus's ass, scooping Remus up with his tongue before pulling the tiny completely into his mouth, sucking and licking over him while moving to gently caress Virgil's cheek with his knuckles.

Virgil flushes as he's gently pet, before Janus's thumb is slipping between Virgil's lips and slowly guiding them apart.

Once they're spread open, Janus carefully pushes Remus out of his own mouth. Remus emerges feet-first, being slid past Janus's slick lips until just his wrists are being held by Janus's mouth pressed firmly together. Remus dangles above Virgil's mouth, with Virgil's bright red face staring intensely at him, as if hungrily awaiting his snack. And shortly thereafter, Janus is opening his mouth, and Remus is falling down and onto Virgil's tongue before he can even squeal.

He hits the muscle with a squishy slap, and just barely has the time to glance behind him and see Janus's amused face before Virgil closes his mouth, trapping him in hot, humid darkness. 

Virgil is quick to start sucking on Remus's body, moaning as his tongue glides over Remus's figure. Janus leans back as he does so, before pushing on Virgil's chin, tilting Virgil's head back until it's forced against the pillows. Virgil scrambles to press Remus against the roof of his mouth with his tongue to keep the tiny from tumbling down his throat at the action.

In a firm voice, Janus says "do not swallow him," before his fingers slide down Virgil's throat, and then down his chest, until his digits reach Logan.

His index drags over Logan's chest, before he's pressing the pad of his finger into Logan's cock, rubbing small circles against it and watching Logan's back arch into the touch, his face twisting in pleasure as loud, pathetic cries spill from Logan's mouth. He's writhing desperately, no doubt overwhelmed by Janus's big and intense touch, but Janus doesn't ease up at all. Instead, he pushes harder against Logan, pulling the breath from Logan's body, before finally Janus's hand retracts.

He's reaching for the lube once more, though this time he spares Logan and uses it to cover his fingers instead.

Then, he's pushing them into Virgil, causing Virgil to moan at the sudden intrusion. Virgil's wrists pull at the ropes connecting his hands to the headboard, aching to grab Janus's shoulders or the mattress, while leaving Logan between them to watch, unfairly torn between the blurry visuals of Janus's smug fingering and the sight of Virgil's Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows mouthfuls of spit, still eagerly sucking on Remus.

It's torture for Logan, who's shivering and still covered in lube; so much that he's sure he wouldn't even be very fun to suck on, and left with his vision blurred just enough to hinder him from properly enjoying anything non-physical. All he has are attractive but fuzzy visuals and muffled moans, and the feeling of himself sliding around his own puddle of lube whenever Virgil manages to arch his body even the slightest amount.

This continues up until Janus pretends to notice him, which is when he brings his free hand to Logan's body and rather harshly presses his finger into Logan's back, pushing him face-down into the leftover puddle of lube without a care.

"Have I been neglecting you, little one?" Janus teasingly asks, before chuckling slightly. "Next time, I'll have Virgil suck on you instead. How does that sound?"

Logan moans, and so does Virgil, though for different reasons.

Janus's fingers brush against Virgil's prostate, making Virgil let out a closed-mouth cry, followed by Janus pulling his fingers out shortly after, earning a dramatic whine. In response though, Janus just taps Virgil's chin, cooing "be a good boy and stick your tongue out," and Virgil is quick to oblige.

Laying on the muscle is an absolutely drenched, but very pleased, Remus. He's panting, but he still has the energy to complain "oh, come on! We were just getting to the good bit!" Though with the way his cock is twitching, and the tinge of red spreading over Virgil's embarrassed cheeks, Janus can already see that Remus has come at least once.

He's then being plucked off Virgil's tongue, and Logan's being picked up too, held together in the same palm.

Janus glances at them briefly, before grinning. "Hold on to each other," he recommends, and once their arms are tightly wrapped around and groping the other, Janus pinches their chests in order to carry them together, and then grabs Virgil's cock. He strokes it slowly, but mainly holds it still, turning to Virgil and asking "ready?" while Logan and Remus look down with wide, excited eyes.

Virgil nods, whimpering as he tries to keep his hips from bucking. 

Then he’s pressing both of them into the slit of Virgil’s cock, which greedily sucks down their ankles, their calves, their thighs - until they’re shoved into Virgil’s shaft up to their hips.

Virgil moans at the weird feeling, while Remus and Logan soak in the unexpected surprise. Their bodies are pressed tightly together - cocks against stomachs and thighs entangled - but that’s nothing compared to the moist muscles shifting around their lower halves, coating them in pre and causing them to slowly slip further down.

Both Logan and Remus squirm against each other, Remus squealing slightly while Logan tucks his face into Remus’s shoulder.

They’re both equally as fascinated by the feeling of Virgil’s cock eating up their lower halves as they are excited. Their feet brush against moist inner muscles, and when Janus presses against the noticeable bulge their bodies create, they both moan, as Janus squeezing Virgil’s shaft squeezes both of their bodies tightly together.

Virgil’s hips jerk at the feeling, moaning pathetically.

Grinning wide, Janus pets the outline of the duo's lower halves with his thumb, teasing Virgil’s cock simultaneously. Though he glances at Virgil, his attention turns to the tinies with a more sadistic gleam in his eyes.

“Once you two go down, you’re not coming back up. You know that, right?” he says, with Virgil biting his lip at Janus’s admission. Logan looks a mixture of shocked and confused, while Remus genuinely couldn’t care less, and so doesn’t cease his wriggling. “Virgil’s going to churn the two of you into his next orgasm,” Janus further explains, before curling his fingers tight around Virgil’s cock, everyone moaning at the action. “Aren’t you two so useful?”

Logan’s eyes widen at the description, while Remus moans loudly at the idea of digestion inside Virgil’s cock. His hands grasp at Logan’s ass just beneath Virgil’s slit, and eventually Logan’s whining at the idea as well, just in time for Janus’s thumb to press against their heads, and push them down, until they’ve sunk up to their shoulders.

Remus has never been one for sitting still, so it’s no surprise to anyone that his wiggling never stops. He’s both trying to rub his body along Virgil’s inner cock muscles, and grind against Logan, who’s whining with sensitivity, clearly nearing his own climax but desperately trying to hold back.

But eventually, Remus’s head falls back to look at Virgil, whose face is twisted with arousal and humiliation. Remus is immediately grinning at the display.

Despite the fact he’s in no such position to make degrading comments, they shoot out of his mouth quickly and confidently. “Are you loving this as much as we are, Virgil? Is knowing that you’re going to melt us down into sludge turning you on tenfold?”

Janus rolls his eyes at the comments - while Virgil turns a dark, embarrassed red - before sighing out a half-hearted “sorry, Logan, but I don’t really like my treats-” Janus looks pointedly and playfully at Remus “-to talk back. And I don’t think Virgil does either.” His thumb comes to rest atop their heads, before pushing them down the rest of the way, until their heads are swallowed down by Virgil’s cock and they disappear just beneath his slit.

Their heads are forced together by Virgil’s inner cock muscles, but Remus just seizes that opportunity suck and lick into Logan’s mouth, who moans and ruts against Remus despite hardly shifting at all due to their constrained position. Heat mixes in with their lube-slicked, and spit soaked bodies, causing sweat to slowly add to that mix, and speed up their descent.

On the outside, Janus wraps his hand fully around Virgil’s length, squeezing and stroking Virgil to allow the latter to properly feel the tinies being swallowed slowly down to his balls.

His firm grasps force the air out of Remus and Logan’s lungs, leaving them breathless and then pushing them down from beyond.

Virgil tries fruitlessly to buck into Janus’s fist as he’s half-heartedly stroked, but that just has Janus slowly further. “You can’t come too soon, love,” Janus warns. His tone is soft and warm, but he’s clearly threatening Virgil. “If you do, you’ll have no semen left to digest the tinies with!”

“Fuck!” Virgil cries out, throwing his head back as the bed creaks with how hard Virgil tugs against his restraints.

With Janus’s free hand - still mostly covered in lube - he quickly pushes his fingers back into Virgil, purposefully making Virgil’s orgasm harder to repress. His knuckles curl against Virgil’s prostate, and Virgil’s eyes squeeze shut, shouting out Janus’s name at the sudden surge of pleasure.

His eyes squeeze shut as they start to fill with oversensitive tears, not knowing if he wants to fuck himself down on Janus’s fingers or thrust his hips into Janus’s hand. Regardless, he’s bound in place, and desperately trying to hold back his climax.

Everything is just so much; whenever his cock twitches, he can feel the tinies inside of him moving even more!

All of it just brings him closer and closer to the edge.

The only thing that stops him from coming is Janus momentarily pausing all of his pleasure, instead squeezing painfully around the base of Virgil’s cock to forcefully keep Virgil’s desire at bay.

“You just can’t listen, can you?” Janus scolds, ignoring Virgil’s trembling gasps. “I’m kind and bring you pleasure, and you can’t even hold back an orgasm without my help? Think of how you’d drown the tinies still stuck in your cock with such a rush of come! They’d choke on it!”

“I’m-” Virgil sucks in a sharp breath, before crying out “I’m sorry!”

He sneaks a glance at his cock and flushes dark when he sees the bulging outline of the two tinies positioned directly above where Janus is squeezing - just a few seconds away from falling down into his balls. Virgil tries to buck his hips again, staring pleadingly at Janus as he’s stuck feeling them move while he’s forced to be still despite their pleasure.

Janus’s fingers begin moving slowly once more in and out of Virgil’s hole, while his hand slowly eases up around Virgil’s cock.

Remus and Logan both immediately feel themselves slipping downwards once more, before their feet push into a wider, emptier area. Both of them moan at the implications as they’re guided down until their thighs pour into the slick space, their hips, and then their entire bodies, which fall down together as they both land in the thick pool of come.

They struggle to get their footing and push their way upwards, bodies already tingling, but as soon as they’re getting in a gulp of air Virgil’s balls are being jostled, and they’re sent splashing back beneath the bitter liquid once again.

“Can you feel them?” Janus asks Virgil, as he watches one of the small men occasionally be sloshed to the side of Virgil’s balls and press against it, before they’re slipping a different direction instead. “Do they feel good?”

“Yes,” Vigil moans, feeling the two be swished around in his sack. “Fuck, yes!”

He can feel them moving around in his balls, being tossed this way and that, coated and drenched in his eventual orgasm, beginning to slowly be melted down by it and churned into more come to fill his testes.

Logan and Remus struggle to keep themselves above the semen, and have to fight to drink down the hot, thick air in order to breathe at all. They’re falling over each other and over the space, sliding and pushing against the walls, until they can finally grab each other. Both of them are hot and pleasantly burning, as they’re slowly melted down.

But then Remus is grabbing Logan’s shoulders, holding tight to Logan’s body and shoving him onto his back, leaving Logan submerged in the come and forced to drink down mouthfuls of it. Despite his squirming, Remus doesn’t release him, and instead swings his hips over Logan’s own, grinding his cock and ass over Logan’s front and trapping Logan’s cock beneath him. When his grip eases up, Logan pushes upwards, coughing and choking at his mouthful of jizz, but Remus just kisses him when he sees, drinking down the orgasm and moaning at the tingling he feels within his stomach afterwards.

Then Remus is carelessly shoving Logan down again, rubbing his ass more purposefully over Logan’s cock until he somehow manages to get it into his hole, where he eases up his grip in order to start messily bouncing instead.

Once again, Logan’s upper half breaches the surface, semen gurgling in his mouth that he messily coughs up while Remus uses him like a toy, his body already starting to look pastier by the minute.

Suddenly, they’re jostled again as Janus’s fingers squeeze and rub over Virgil’s balls, causing them to tip over. Logan only has a few seconds to try and compose himself before he’s being seized and used again, Remus sliding back onto his cock with his hands planted on Logan’s chest, keeping him pushed beneath the pool as Remus’s own head occasionally dips beneath it.

Meanwhile Janus is lubing up his own cocks, while Virgil whines, begging Janus to hurry up before they’re digested. He can feel them bouncing around, and they feel so good.

Janus squeezes Virgil’s balls in response, before positioning his cocks at Virgil’s entrance. The only warning provided is the tips of Janus’s cocks pressing against Virgil’s hole, until they’re swiftly pushing in, Virgil moaning loudly at the intrusion. He tries to fuck his hips back on the shafts, but Janus grabs his hips, keeping them dormant.

A gush of pre rolls down Virgil’s length, as Virgil feels immediately overwhelmed by both the tinies inside of his balls, and Janus balls-deep inside of his ass.

And Janus just starts stroking his cock again, clearly working to bring Virgil to a quick and intense orgasm that Virgil knows Janus won’t even allow him.

“Janus!” Virgil pleas, his wrists aching with the ropes sliding against his skin. “Bastard! Don’t-” he cuts himself off with a cry as Janus easily finds and thrusts into his prostate, tears pooling in his eyes and sliding down his bright red cheeks.

“I can’t,” Virgil whimpers, more pathetically. “I can’t.”

Janus leans over him, pressing a hand into the mattress next to Virgil’s ribcage. As he rocks his hips into Virgil, Virgil clenching around him, the latter’s eyes pressing shut as he moans.

“You will,” Janus whispers, grinning playfully. “I’ll help you.”

Janus is confident with the way he moves, keeping himself composed despite being just as worked up by Virgil’s lewd expressions and tight ass, and the ever-present knowledge of Logan and Remus being digested into come between Virgil’s legs.

As Janus both fucks into and strokes Virgil, Virgil feels his orgasm rapidly approaching. And in turn, Remus and Logan are thrown around violently. Remus’s nails dig hard into Logan’s body in order to cling to him, though his fingers seem to sink deeper than they should into Logan’s soft flesh. 

“Stroke me!” Remus begs, as he fucks himself desperately on Logan’s cock. “Please! Please!”

Logan can hardly hear Remus, let alone think to get him off, but Remus is just digging through Virgil’s come to find Logan’s hand and drag it to his cock himself, pleading loudly as they’re jostled around repeatedly.

They have a limited amount of time before they dissolve and add to the spunk filling Virgil’s balls, and so Logan squeezes his hand around Remus’s cock, much like Janus is squeezing Virgil’s, with Janus holding Virgil’s cock tight at the base yet again. 

Virgil cries at the pressure building up in his balls; he's on the edge of release, and Janus knows.

"Aren't I being so kind?" Janus asks him, trying to mask the breathiness in his voice as he thrusts his cock in and out of Virgil, rustling the latter's balls with each jerk of his hips. "I'm helping you!" 

Frustrated tears fall from Virgil's eyes. "Fuck!" he curses, between breathy moans. "Please, I need to come! I need to come!" 

As Janus squeezes his balls again, Virgil cries, but Janus just tsks. 

"They're still moving, love," he says, before thumbing away one of Virgil's tears. "Be patient. Or I'll stop completely, and force you to get off alone." 

Virgil doesn't want that, and so his trembling lips press together to bite back any further complaints, his fingers curled into tight fists. He can feel Remus and Logan moving, and he despises them for it, despite whining at the feeling of them being sloshed around in his come. He doesn't know what they're doing, but they're rowdy, and Janus's movements don't help keep them still either. 

Janus continue his harsh thrusts, abusing Virgil's prostate with his cocks with hard, fast movements, while his fingers flex around Virgil's cock, keeping still aside from easing and tightening their grip, constantly making Virgil moan or cry as he's kept at the edge of an orgasm. 

"Shit, shit, shit," Remus curses, as he sees his body slowly melting into thick white goo. He moans, as he feels Logan's body turn to goop beneath him. He rushes to squeeze an orgasm out of them both, and luckily manages to position Logan's cock against his prostate as he bounces. He pulls Logan out of the semen, with Logan coughing up a mouthful of spunk, and looking around disoriented. Whimpers spill out of his lips as Remus drags his tongue up Logan's melting face, shivering when his tongue is hit with the familiar taste of come. They're being churned into it, so it really shouldn't be such a surprise, but as Remus pushes Logan's own melted body back into his mouth, Logan shudders and pushes his arm - or, what's left of it - against Remus's body. 

The hand once around Remus's cock had been dissolved into just a squishy, slowly liquidizing stub that encases Remus's cock like a squelching fleshlight. 

Their bodies seem to melt into each other, and the burning, tingling feeling overwhelming Logan only further add to his pleasure. As he dizzily stares up at Remus, oversensitive and mind-numbingly consumed by every little sensation surrounding him, he comes, with a broken moan being the last thing that escapes Logan's mouth before he falls back into the mess, becoming one with it. And luckily, Remus follows soon after, his body becoming more formless and blob-like as he clenches around what's left of Logan's cock, and comes too, his semen mixing in immediately with everything else, before he blacks out as well. A few more seconds and there's nothing left of either of them but more semen being swished around with Virgil's. 

Virgil cries as he feels their movements stop, and as Janus rubs over his balls, he hums, pleased. 

"Good boy, digesting them fully," Janus praises him, before speeding up his thrusts. "Do you want to come, Virgil? Make a mess of your chest with the two tinies you so cruelly churned into semen?" 

"Yes!" Virgil pleads. "Yes, yes, yes!" 

Janus grunts under his breath, sweat forming on his brow. His own orgasm is building within him as Virgil's hole squeezes his cocks. "Say please." 

"Please!" Virgil begs, gritting his teeth. "Janus! Please!" 

Janus eases his grip on Virgil's cock, and begins stroking it quickly instead, working Virgil to a quick and much-needed orgasm. In just a minute or so Virgil's back is arching as he cries out, coming hard over Janus's hand and his chest, with a noticeably bigger load drenching his stomach. And a noticeably larger orgasm, as come spurts in streams for a few drawn out seconds, before spluttering into dribbles down his shaft that just get rubbed back into his length as Janus works him through his orgasm. 

Janus moans at the sight, his head falling as he pants, before suddenly he's coming as well, filling Virgil's ass with his load and making Virgil whine as Janus works him into oversensitivity. 

Then, with a few more punctuated thrusts, Janus pulls out, and catches his breath while leaning over Virgil, both of them taking a few moments to admire the other, and the extremity of Virgil's climax. 

Without hesitation, Janus is scooping two fingerfuls worth of Virgil's come, and pushes it without warning into Virgil's mouth. Virgil's brows knit together, but he sucks it off regardless. 

"How does it taste?" Janus asks, as he he pulls his fingers from Virgil's mouth and wipes the excess spit onto the sheets. 

Virgil frowns in response. Breathily, he states "like semen. You're gross." 

"Remus would have liked it." 

Virgil's nose scrunches up in disgust, but he licks his lips, thinking about Logan and Remus's bodies mixed in with what is otherwise normal semen. Embarrassingly, his balls feel emptier than usual without them in it, even if they were only there for such a short amount of time. 

As Janus undoes Virgil's restraints, Virgil lays back and relaxes, before he's being wiped down and pushed over by Janus, until they're cuddling together on one half of the bed. 

"I want to stretch out more," Virgil whines in complaint, but Janus just curls into Virgil's chest. 

"Remus and Logan will want to join us when they reform," Janus argues. "And I want them cuddling up to me. Your room is always so cold." 

Virgil wraps his arms around Janus to pull him closer. "Is not." 

"Is too. Now hush; with our luck, Remus will just want to do this again when he gets back. And with Logan's experimental mind, he might want to too. So you should take advantage of all the rest you can get." 

Snorting, Virgil eventually sighs, and really only utters "touché," before letting his eyes flutter closed. 

Chapter Text

Roman's breathing is slow. Not scared so much as surprised, as he stares ahead at the clearing before him, where a large snake was curled up on a smooth stone set in the center. Sun poured into the area, causing the thing's yellow scales to glimmer. 

But it wasn't all snake. Very clearly seen was the bare chest of someone almost human - emphasis on almost. Though human in anatomy from the stomach up, scales still dotted half the creature's body, traveling up his arm and over his face, which was partially tucked into his own hands. He looks comfortable, and as though he's lounging, but not completely asleep, signified by his occasional shifting of positions, and the movement of the very tip of his tail. 

Roman tries to estimate just how large the thing - the naga - is. 

It's tail could quite clearly stretch the entire length of the clearing, but while standing - the best something with no legs could stand - up, Roman presumes the naga could tower over him. His chest and face were a bit bigger too, to fit with it's own body, but it emphasizes just how much larger he was compared to Roman.

To some degree, Roman's aware he should be scared. He was deep into the woods, after all; hybrids weren't guaranteed to have any semblance of morality. It was hunt and gather for them, just like actual animals, and a snake so big seems awfully carnivorous, and Roman's aware he'd make a hearty meal. But for some reason, he can't pry his eyes away. He's overly curious, and incredibly inspired; such a glowing creature would look so lovely painted onto a canvas. 

It's only when the naga begins to stir once more that Roman sucks in a deep breath, and decides it's time to go. 

As the naga raises his head, Roman turns and starts to quietly head out, only to trip and eat shit. 

He yelps as he crashes into the ground, and turns around to cuss at the thick tree root that'd protruded the ground and been such an inconvenience to his foot. He rubs briefly at his ankle, which aches with light pain, no doubt from twisting it, only for a shadow to be slowly cast over him. 

Breath caught in his throat, Roman nervously raises his head, and is greeted by the upper half of the naga, gazing down at him. 

"You know, it's awfully rude to stare," the naga hisses, though it sounds more neutral than irritated. "And it's even ruder to stalk. I've felt your eyes on me for the past half hour." 

Roman opens his mouth to defend himself, but no words come out.

"Why don't you run off? Scamper away?" The naga cocks his head to the side, before teasing "too awestruck?" 

"You have no idea," Roman breathes, and such an answer has the naga's eyes going wide, before it chuckles. 

"Well, aren't you just... sssomething." The naga leans down, slithering forward just enough that Roman's feet press against part of the creature's tail, as its upper half moves closer to Roman. One of his hands grab Roman's chin, and inspect his face closely. 

"You're very healthy," the naga comments, "you'd make a fine meal." 

Roman flushes rather inappropriately at the comment, though it was more so how the naga said it. Regardless, the naga hums at his response, and presses its thumb against Roman's cheek, which Roman lets him do until it starts to hurt, which is when he wrestles his face away. 

"Don't eat me," Roman then says, sounding less scared and more breathless. "I was just... I was just admiring you." 

The naga looks unsurprised, but still raises an eyebrow, considering Roman's words for a moment before stating "go on." 

Roman sits up, moving to his knees despite the dirt pressing into his clothing. "You looked so relaxed resting in the clearing, and the sun is just so bright. Your scales... they... they seemed to sparkle beneath the golden rays. It was ethereal. You're... you're ethereal. I've never seen such a beautiful creature before; I couldn't help but linger and stare." 

The naga clicks his tongue. "You're rather verbose, hm?" 

Roman looks away, a bit more embarrassed. "Sorry." 

"Don't be. Your voice is pretty, so I'll give you a pass. And I suppose such words have... persuaded me to show you mercy." 

"Really?" 

The naga drops his facade, and snickers, pulling away from Roman to mask his amused grin with his hand. "I guess," he replies, before rolling his eyes. "I was never actually going to eat you. You're not my type." 

The naga slithers back into the clearing, and rewraps himself around his rock. Roman immediately rushes to stand and follow, which the creature seems to have expected. 

"Do you have a name?" the naga asks, as he settles himself back on his rock, pressing his chest into the warm stone. 

Roman nods, and introduces himself with a dramatic bow as "Roman Prince, at your service. Do you have a name?" 

The creature regards him with half-lidded eyes, before resting his chin on his arms. "Janus." 

"Janus?" 

"You sound surprised." 

Roman sets his hand upon Janus's rock, which has Janus peering at him, as though silently warning him not to come closer. "I just... I expected something more vicious." 

Janus snorts. "Of course you did." 

Roman frowns, and once more goes to argue on his own behalf, only to suddenly feel the tip of Janus's tail begin to wrap around his ankle. He feels a bit of fear course through him, as he briefly wonders whether or not Janus was actually telling the truth when he said he wouldn't eat him, before sighing slightly when Janus's tail ceases just past his knee. 

"You're ssstrong," Janus states. 

Roman nods. "I am." 

Then, Janus's lips quirk up into a playful smile. "Not stronger than me, though." 

And then his tail tightens around Roman's leg, and with practiced ease lifts Roman off the grassy floor and into the air, holding him upside down. Groaning as he stretches, Janus turns onto his back, stretching out over the rock before guiding Roman's flailing body to his midsection, where the scales of his tail fades into the flesh of his torso. As his tail slides off of Roman, Roman adjusts the awkward position so that he's straddling Janus, which is seemingly what Janus wanted. 

"So weak," Janus coos, as Roman flushes a dark red. "Just going to let yourself be manhandled?" 

"I wouldn't call it man-handling," Roman bitterly objects. 

"What would you call it?" 

"...Snake handling?" 

"Shut up." 

Roman huffs, but quickly shivers when Janus's hands begin exploring his thighs. 

"What are you doing?" Roman asks, as Janus's lithe fingers press into his inner leg, and run up to just below his crotch. It's a rather intimate caress being performed by a complete stranger. 

Janus's eyes flicker up to Roman's face, before looking back down at his legs. "Exploring. Normally, humans never let me get this close. Rather smart of them, I'd say." 

"Hey!" 

Janus shushes him, and then laughs quietly, under his breath. His thumbs press into the sides of Roman's thighs, before humming with more curiosity. "Legs are quite an interesting thing. Why must you require two of them to move places? Slithering with a tail is much more efficient. It takes much less energy." 

"Is that true?" 

"It is to me; I've never had legs, after all, it's not like I can compare the two. What's right here, hm?" 

Janus's hand presses over Roman's crotch, making Roman squeak. His thighs try to close to hide the area, but just end up squeezing around Janus's tail, making Janus smirk, as though he already knows what's hidden behind Roman's zipper. 

"Nothing for you!" Roman huffs, as he instead uses his hands to push Janus's away, and then plans his fists against Janus's tail, sticking then between his crotch and Janus's curious fingers. 

"Your fabric..." Janus observes, staring at Roman's hands, as though he's trying to once again stare at what's behind them, "it's like a sheath."

"A sheath?" 

Janus laughs softly. "Of course. You humans don't actually have sheaths. A flaw in design, I suppose." 

Roman's bottom lip juts out in a dramatic pout. "Whatever you're talking about isn't a flaw. It's probably something only unique to nagas."

Janus laughs again. "You don't know what a sheath is?" 

"Not outside of swords." 

Janus's face settles into a rather amused smile, before he grins wide, showing off two sharp fangs. "Would you like to find out what a sheath is? I can show you... but only if you promise to leave if I overstep any... boundaries." 

"Why would you..." 

Roman watches as Janus slides him further back on his tail, and then runs his fingers down to where his privates would be were he human. It has Roman stammering, his face bright red. 

"Oh..." he breathes, before looking back up at Janus's face. "Oh. I see. I... yeah. I'll leave if I get uncomfortable." 

"But for now, you'll stay?" 

"Gladly." 

Janus chuckles, as Roman watches Janus's fingers circle around the center of his tail, before finally his fingers push, and disappear within a slit. Janus's breath hitches at the action - a small sound that Roman is hyper-aware of - and he sinks his fingers deeper, before pulling them out, with a thin string of arousal connecting his fingers to his cunt. 

"Oh..." Roman sighs again, before gulping down a mouthful of spit. "That's a sheath..." 

"Do you know why it's called a sheath?" 

Roman shakes his head, his eyes glued to the wet cunt that Janus so graciously spreads open, letting Roman see his slick innards. 

"No... why?" 

When Janus doesn't answer, Roman turns towards him, and he shudders when he sees Janus's awaiting smile. 

"Why don't you find out?" 

Janus needn't say more for Roman to understand his implications, though he partially wishes Janus would. Still though, he slides further back on Janus's tail, and slowly guides his fingers towards Janus's cunt. That has Janus tsking at him though. 

"Really? Your fingers? After you'd been digging your palms into the dirt you fell in? Gross." 

"What... what else..." 

Janus's eyes stare directly at Roman's lips until Roman gets the message, and nods his head. 

"Okay," Roman says, before leaning down, trembling a bit. "Okay. I can do that." 

Embarrassment creeps through Roman's body, but leaves him incredibly excited, and twitching in his pants as his head moves towards Janus's cunt. He's visibly nervous, but incredibly excited, and though this situation makes him feel hot and humiliated - so easily bending to this naga's desires -  he still presses his tongue into the folds of Janus's slit, and moans at the groan Janus lets out. 

"Good boy," Janus praises, which has Roman whimpering as he gets a mouthful of Janus's juices. He feels one of Janus's hands pet through his hair, before pushing him more firmly against his tail, making Roman whine as he begins licking deep into Janus's cunt. 

The anatomy is strange. There's no clit in sight, and so Roman focuses on pleasuring what he can access, though he's very surprised when he begins to feel something start to press against his tongue. 

He goes to pull his head away, only for Janus to keep him held in place, tangling his fingers rather roughly in Roman's hair in order to hold him still. 

"Do you understand yet why it's called a sheath?" Janus asks, as Roman's wide eyes flicker up towards him. Out of minor concern for Roman's wellbeing, Janus detours slightly and interjects "if you want to pull away at all, tap three times. Otherwise, you're staying there until I'm done with you. Tap twice if you understand." 

Moaning, Roman taps twice against the side of Janus's tail. 

Janus hums. "Good. Now, sheath. It's called that because it ensheathes my cocks." 

Roman makes a noise, and Janus laughs. 

"Yes. Cocks. You think I'd only have one? Like you? Like a human?" 

Roman lets out a shuddering moan as the two cocks begin to slide more presently into his mouth. His jaw pleasantly aches as the tips push against his tongue, but he squeezes his eyes shut and represses a gag as his tongue swirls around the cocks. His body feels just as hot as his face, and so he attempts to subtly roll his hips against Janus's tail, but as he peeks his eyes up at Janus, he sees Janus smirking down at him, and he knows that Janus is aware of his arousal. 

As Janus's cocks begin to fill his mouth more achingly, he pulls up a bit, and this time Janus lets him. Though his hand stays planted on the back of Roman's head, Roman's finally granted the ability to pull away. At least, for now. 

Roman watches with wide eyes as Janus's cocks begin to emerge from the slit in his tail, juices from his cunt sticking to them and slicking them up, until they seem to be fully protruded. 

Janus is then immediately tugging Roman forward by his head. 

"Go on," he coaxes, as Roman whimpers at his hair being pulled. "Sssuck." 

Leaning down, Roman takes the bottom-most cock into his mouth, feeling slightly more embarrassed now that his face isn't partially obscured by Janus's cunt, thus granting Janus the ability to watch him pathetically bob his head on his cock, while Janus's other cock slides against his cheek, smearing both pre and slick over his features.

He sucks on the tip, licking his tongue over the slit, and then pushes his head down further, gagging before it's even halfway. Once again, Janus's hand on his head keeps him from pulling away. 

"Already?" Janus muses, as he feels Roman's hips shift against his tail. "You still have the entire shaft to go! Relax, love. Relax, and suck." 

Roman tries to do as Janus says and relax his throat, but Janus's cock can only slide about another inch into his mouth before he's gagging again, tears pricking his eyes. Still, Janus forces him further down, and Roman - in an attempt to be good - lets him, taking in deep breaths through his nose. He has to close one eye to keep the thick globs of Janus's pre leaking from his other cock out of it, but Janus seems amused by the visual.

"You're an awfully pretty thing,"  Janus purrs, petting through Roman's hair. "When I envision humans, I imagine them to be so... uninteresting. But you... you're gorgeous. Why... I'm almost tempted to keep you!" 

Roman moans around Janus's cock, flushing a pretty shade of red at the... affection. Because surely, that's what it was. Just affectionate teasing, and not an actual truth. 

Because surely, Janus wouldn't actually keep him, though Roman doesn't find himself as opposed to the idea as he probably should be. 

He gulps down a mouthful of spit and precome as the tip of Janus's cock repeatedly thrusts against the back of his throat with each bob of his head. His face is coated in more of Janus's pre mixed in with a healthy amount of his sweat which had began beading on his forehead due to the hot midday sun beating down on him. It really was a hot spot to lay. 

Janus's tongue flicks out of his mouth, as he leans back on the rock in order to get comfortable. "You smell delicioussss...." he moans, softly. "You're lucky that you're doing a half-decent job, otherwise I would have eaten you anyway." 

Roman lets out a particularly weak-sounding cry at the words, that has Janus groaning as his back arches off the warm rock beneath him, pushing Roman's head down hard on his cock, with the other rubbing firmly across Roman's features. With more control, he guides Roman's head up and down at a quick pace, focusing fully on his own pleasure, and using Roman's wet mouth like a malleable toy. 

Each time Roman's head is guided upwards, he moans in pleasure, getting off on the unintentionally rough way Janus pulls his hair. His hips continually shift against Janus's tail, grinding against the rough material of his boxers they're confined by. His cock strains against his pants, and still Roman can't think enough to free it at all, just humping against Janus's scales as he sucks and swallows and swirls his tongue around the naga's shaft. 

"Good boy," Janus breathes, ever calm and soothing. His tone is a harsh contrast to Roman's noisy moans and whines of pleasure, as he uses Janus's tail to get himself off while the bitter taste of Janus's pre lingers in his throat. Tears fall openly down his red cheeks as he chokes over and over and over, but Janus - who raises his head to glance at him - just seems aroused at the visual. 

He leans forward to thumb away one of Roman's tears, and then pushes the small bead of water into his mouth, sucking it off in such a way that a jolt of pleasure immediately rushes through his body. 

He was close. He was so close. 

"You're trembling," Janus murmurs, as he props himself up on his elbows. The bottom of his tail slides itself over Roman's lower back, adding weight to his hips and making his grinding more difficult, albeit more intense. "So, so cute." 

Janus shoves Roman's head all the way down on his cock, causing Roman to choke forcefully, and come immediately. 

A muffled, gagged cry spills from Roman's lips as he feels himself come into his pants, making a mess of himself while being used to pleasure a beast. His hips don't still throughout his orgasm, and even as he pushes himself into overstimulation, he doesn't stop his movements until Janus's eyes flutter shut. 

"Hmmm," Janus hums, shoulders slumping in sheer relaxation. "Good... good boy..." 

He forces Roman's head up and down in a rough, quick pace, slamming the tip of his cock into the back of Roman's throat until Roman can stifle his gags. 

"So... so good..." 

The tail across Roman's back begins to slowly wrap around his chest, coiling around him and squeezing him tight. Possessively. 

"Oh... Roman..." 

With nothing more than a gasp, Janus comes suddenly and without warning into Roman's mouth and over his face, an excess amount of semen spilling down Roman's throat and into his hair. He's immediately choking, tears falling from his face as he struggles to swallow the surplus filling his mouth until finally Janus shows him mercy and releases his head, letting him pull away. 

Roman coughs up most of it, but swallows a handful, with the rest dripping down his face, chin, and coating his chest, causing his shirt to stick to his torso. He splutters up the rest, and attempts to wipe at his face, but it doesn't do much good. 

"So messy," Janus teases, with a delighted smile on his face, and though Roman huffs, he can't think of any witty quip to respond with, and so pants and averts his gaze, much to Janus's utter amusement.

"I have... materials to clean you up in my den," Janus proposes, after a moment. "I promise I won't keep you for more than a few days, at most. Lest you decide to ssstay with me, that is. Here, I'll even carry you." 

Not with his arms, of course. Instead, Roman's being lifted by Janus's tail, which had wrapped securely four times around his midsection. And Roman just relaxes, not bothering to try and remember which direction he came from or why he'd come into the forest in the first place. All he thinks about is being taken care of. Being a good boy for Janus. Being a naga's plaything. 

Chapter Text

"All of us?" Logan asks, even though the answer to his question is right in front of his face. 

Upon a shelf were six dolls - voodoo dolls, to be precise. Logan had seen them by now, of course, and had heard the others' whispers about them, but now they were in front of him, and being proudly shown off by Remus, who was grinning wide. 

"All of us," Remus affirms, excited as always. "I'm glad you're finally deciding to indulge! It's very fun!" 

"Of course you'd think so." 

Remus spins around in his desk chair, which was practically falling apart as he used it. "If you don't believe me, you could always take your own doll and go fuck yourself." 

Logan narrows his eyes. "Ha. Funny." 

Remus spins around a few more times until his chair is jerked to a halt by Logan setting a firm hand atop it, in order to lean forward and more thoroughly observe the dolls, scanning over the collection as if considering his choices. 

"I'm always down to have mine grabbed," Remus suggests, as though trying to encourage Logan to pick his. "Otherwise, if you hate me, just choose whoever. The powder stuff only works if the person wants it to." 

"Will I be able to tell if it works or not?" 

"Depends on whether or not you can hear the person." 

"So... if it doesn't..."

Remus shrugs. "You'd just be fucking a doll. It still feels good, but just for one of you." 

Logan stares at the dolls. Remus's was a viable option; someone he knew was always down for sex, and loud enough for Logan to fully appreciate the doll's capabilities, but he's sure Remus has had his fun with his toy, both alone and with others. 

Virgil's toy was cutely pouty, but Logan knows he didn't sleep well the night before. Patton's had the cutest stitched smile, but Logan had seen him in the kitchen with Janus trying to do chores (and getting incredibly distracted by conversation). Janus would be bitter if he was interrupted at all while with Patton, so Logan doubts the doll would even work. 

Logan's eyes shift over to Roman's plush, sat on the right hand side, farthest away from Remus's. 

As far as Logan knew, Roman wasn't busy, although they'd had a bit of a... squabble recently, one that left Logan exhaling rather prominently through his nose as he glowers at the toy that just resembled the prince. 

"I tend to make that face at Roman, too," Remus jests, as he watches Logan's nose scrunch up. "But, hey! Sexual revenge is always fun!" 

"Sexual revenge sounds way too violent," Logan grits, as he tears his eyes away from the Roman plush. "I just wanted... relief. In which I could guarantee the other person was also having fun." 

"Then take the Roman doll!" Remus lunges up from his desk chair to rather roughly grab the toy by its chest, and tosses it at Logan, who catches it smoothly and immediately holds it at his side, seeming uninterested. 

"I don't really want to think about Roman right now." 

Remus whistles, as he falls back into his chair, the force of his collapse knocking the seat halfway across the room, the wheels squeaking loud against the floor. "Then don't think about him. Just think about sex, and how good sex feels, and how good it would feel to fuck your frustrations out on someone who's pissing you off! And again, if he doesn't want some steaming hot sex, then he just won't feel it." 

As Logan raises the doll to consider Remus's words, he's suddenly hit with the small baggie of "magic" activator powder. He scrambles to catch it, and then nods at Remus. 

"Fine," Logan states, as he holds the bag in his other hand. "Thank you for your... help." 

Remus kicks his legs up onto his messy desk, his heavy boots thudding against the splintering wood. "Anytime. And if you ever want to exchange Roman for a significantly more exciting creativity doll, mine's always available!" 

But Logan's already turned and strolled out the door, walking towards his own room on the other side of the mindscape. 

The Roman doll is unceremoniously tossed onto Logan's bed once he steps back into bedroom, with the small baggie of activating powder following suit. Logan takes his time pulling off his dress shoes and undoing his tie, trying to regulate his breathing before sitting back on the edge of his bed, glaring at the plush laying innocently against the pillows. 

"You're a real nuisance," Logan spits, his harsh tone barely concealed underneath his stoic visage. Roman always knew just how to piss him off. 

As Logan pulls his legs onto the bed, he crawls towards the doll, taking a deep breath before deciding to vent his frustrations out while grabbing the doll by its chest. "You always have to get the last word, even if what comes out of your mouth is unintelligent bullshit you think constitutes as a witty quip. You think you're smart? You think your ideas could possibly rival mine?" 

Logan digs open the small bag, and takes a handful of the dust, before smearing it over the Roman doll. Instinctually, he pauses, and then glances towards his door. He didn't close it all the way. He's half tempted to leave it open, just in case Roman's in the mood to be fucked, so that he could hear him, but eventually his modesty wins him over and he gets up and shuffles to the door to close it. He sighs as he heads back to his bed, and uses his thumb to rub in the last specks of powder into the doll. 

After he does, he waits a moment, as if expecting something to happen, before shaking his head. 

Why would something happen? If the powder works, it'll just... work. That's it. 

Logan reaches to grab lube from his bedside drawer, while beginning to undress the Roman doll with one hand. The shirt is pulled away, as is the pants, until Logan's staring at the doll's bare crotch and underside, where a hole resides. The doll is made suspiciously like a fleshlight, which gives Logan the visual of all of them being made like that, including his own doll. The idea of Remus - or any of the sides - having such easy access to a little Logan look-a-like makes Logan flush, but he supposes that he was just about to do to Roman what Roman could do to him at any point in time, and that lessens his embarrassment a bit. 

Logan takes the lube and presses the open end against the doll's hole, before squeezing the bottle, and nearly dropping the plush entirely when he hears a high-pitched squeal through his otherwise thick walls. 

Roman - who resides in the room next to Logan's - has fallen out of his desk chair, startled by the sudden rush of liquid that feels like it's being shot into him. 

It's not only incredibly weird, but extremely unexpected, and has him gasping in surprise as he rushes to shuffle out of his pants and spread his legs to feel the underside of his boxers. His fingers press against the fabric, only to feel nothing. No liquid. He checks his pants; maybe he just sat on something? A spilled drink, perhaps? 

But no, his pants are just as dry as his boxers are, and yet he still feels like there's something slick inside of him. He's not sick, is he? 

But then he feels something sliding inside of him, pushing into his hole and stretching him open, and Roman's quick to hide his face in his hands as he leans back and moans, a lot louder than he wants to be. But fuck, it feels so good! 

And Logan agrees, with half of his cock shoved into the little doll. He'd gotten up and moved to his door, and was leaning back against it in order to listen to Roman's muffled noises as he works the plush down on his cock. 

"Stupid... stupid..." Logan grits, as he pulls the doll down fully on his shaft, delighted by the cry that spills out and into the hallway. Logan's fingers itch to open his door right back up, but he knows that he shouldn't. "Why do you even try to act like your thoughts are worth something? All your good for is this. Stupid prince. Stupid, stupid Roman." 

His fingers squeeze the plush and consequently squeeze his cock within it, making him moan as he hears Roman groan next door. 

Roman feels like the breath is being pulled out of him, while feeling the thing inside of him more prominently. It's so big and so intense, and his confusion quickly melts into pure pleasure as he stretches his arms above his head and lets his thighs spread apart, messily pulling his cock from his boxers but being left too uncoordinated to get them even part-way down his thighs. 

"God," Roman shudders, as the back of his head thumps against his flooring. The phantom shaft inside of him stills for just a moment, before it slowly begins to slide out of him, and then roughly pushes back in, drawing a noisy "fuck!" from his lips. 

And Logan moans softly in turn, his head hanging down as he stares at the plushie's button eyes  while defiling its fabric. 

He's slow with his movements, cautious not to overwhelm Roman, but oblivious to just how overstimulating his actions are. After all, his cock is massive compared to the doll, and scales up to match Roman's body, making Roman feel like he's being fucked all the way up to his throat. 

And things only get more interesting when Logan shifts his grip, only for his thumb to slip into a hole on the doll's face, causing Logan to stop abruptly. 

Curiously, he sinks his thumb further into the hole, and feels strange moistness as though it's an actual mouth. He presses the side of his head against the door as he jams his finger down the plush's mouth, and is pleased to hear Roman gag very faintly in the distance. 

"Shit," Logan curses, pressing his free hand to his mouth, before laughing softly. "Well, that's one way to shut you up, I suppose." 

Roman's mouth is held open by a large invisible force, and his jaw aches, but his hips buck anyway. He's gagging on it, heaving, even, and yet his cock throbs and leaks pre onto his shirt, his back arched off the ground. It feels so good to be so confused and out of control; he's even stopped worrying about what is happening just to focus on how good it feels!

He chokes as the object is shoved further down his throat, with drool spilling from both sides of his mouth and down his chin. He's sure he looks a picturesque mess, but the image of him presented so pathetically has him moaning. 

That is, until, he feels a different object slide against his front - as though palming over his cock - and Roman comes immediately. 

There's little build up - just complete oversensitivity creeping in to draw an orgasm quickly from his body, so forcefully he hardly even gets a sound out other than a weak cry, with tears brimming in his eyes as his load is shot over his chest, with a few streaks splattering across his lower jaw. 

He lays limp against the floor as he's gagged and slowly fucked with no end in sight, coming down from his orgasm while knowing that as soon as his refractory period has passed, he'll be worked right back up again. 

Logan's slow with his movements, more experimental as he gets used to the unexpected feeling of moist fabric against his cock and fingers. 

How the hell Remus even managed accomplishing such a thing was a mystery that - for once - Logan didn't feel too keen on solving. 

He just felt excited to experience it. 

He curses under his breath, bringing the doll down hard on his cock, and listens through the door as Roman lets out an overstimulated cry, giving Logan insight into Roman's predicament. It has him even more excited, and moving faster as a result, much to Roman's delight. 

Roman's cock twitches as he feels the object inside of him speed up, genuinely feeling as though his organs are being rearranged by the force of its thrusts. He moans his tears roll down his red face, digging his fingers into the floor above his head. His mouth is stuck open, and his hole is spread wide, and he loves it. 

Gagging repeatedly, choking as the thing in his mouth digs further down his throat, and bucking his hips up desperately. 

His breath is squeezed out of him as pressure on his chest tightens, making him gasp and splutter as he's unable to draw in air, with Logan holding the doll tightly. 

Finally, Logan pulls his fingers out of the plush's mouth, and instead pushes his own knuckles against his lips, muffling the soft sounds he's making in order to avoid giving Roman the same enticing knowledge Logan is blessed with. He would rather avoid letting Roman actively know that Logan was getting off too; it's much more fun if Roman can't connect the dots. After all, just because Logan hadn't utilized the voodoo dolls until now doesn't mean everyone else hadn't seized those dolls for their own pleasure!

His hips jolt forward, rutting his cock irregularly into the fabric body, his pre squelching out of the tight hole with each thrust into it. 

"I bet it's hard to be a..." Logan pants, trailing off, before shaking his head slightly as he tries to regain his composure, "be a prick when you're too busy moaning, huh? Huh, Roman?" 

As if on cue, Roman moans, with the large object inside of him rubbing repeatedly over his prostate, with what feels like pressure pressing down on his front, rubbing his cock quickly in between rough squeezes that repeatedly choke and suffocate him until he's pleasantly red and dizzy. 

Already, he feels insatiably hot and fuzzy-minded, able to breathe at least a little easier without his mouth being filled but still struggling to think or do much with the amount of pleasure overtaking his body. 

He feels so good. So good. So good he can't even question what's happening anymore. 

"Please-" Roman chokes out, spit spluttering unflatteringly over his chin as he drools, eyes rolling back into his head. His back arches off the floor as his fists slam against it, with his toes curling. 

Logan's in a rather similar situation, breathing hard against his knuckles as he sloppily fucks into the Roman plush, a faint blush on his cheeks and sweat rolling down his forehead. If his room wasn't properly air-conditioned, he's sure that his glasses would be fogging up. 

He mutters unintelligent obscenities under his breath as he nears his own release, his head thumping against his wooden door as he focuses on the mixture of Roman's noisy excitement and his own wet thrusts. Each thrust equated to a moan spilling from Roman's room and echoing down the hall to Logan's doorway, which he embarrassingly drank in as though he only felt this good because he knew he was making Roman feel this good. 

Because even despite Roman's immature, insufferable, annoying behavior, Logan liked knowing that he could make Roman feel good. They both feel good. So, so good. 

"Damn it," Logan curses, as sweat rolls down his cheek. He moans into his hand, and then whimpers as he feels his orgasm building and building and threatening to come spilling out of him before he's ready. "God, Roman. You ruin me. You're not even here, and you're ruining me." 

"Please!" Logan hears Roman desperately beg, and that's all it takes. 

With a loud groan of his own, Logan's eyes are squeezing shut as he fucks his cock deep into the toy, and loads of come begin pumping into it, filling the plush with ease and spilling out of it quickly and onto the floor into a messy, off-white puddle. His fingers squeeze around the doll's middle, while his thumb unintentionally digs into the plushie's crotch. 

Roman cries out at the feeling, coming hard at the feeling of being filled by what feels like an excess of semen, while his cock feels both pleasured and crushed at whatever's pressing against it. It's all overwhelmingly good, and it's all - rather bluntly - overwhelming. 

Tears cascade down his flushed face and reach his floor, now messed with the stray droplets of both his first and second orgasms, his own drool, and his past tears, but luckily - before he can make a bigger mess - whatever's inside of him slides out, and the pressure around his body alleviates, granting him the ability to suck in some much-needed air as he attempts to steady his shaking body. 

He stays on his floor, eyes pressed lightly shut as he pants, before he suddenly hears someone clear their breath. 

He cracks an eye open, and squeals when he sees Logan. 

"Privacy!" Roman exclaims, as he rolls onto his side and rushes to get his tangled pants up onto his legs. Logan stands unimpressed behind him, and watches Roman fumble with the fabric for a minute or so, before bending down to loop his arms under Roman's shoulders, and guide him to his feet. Roman frowns, but kicks his bunched up pants and boxers away, deciding against bending back down to put them on. 

"You shouldn't touch me," Roman breathes, as he stands shakily on his soles. "I'm a mess." 

"I know." 

Roman flushes dark with embarrassment. "I know you know. I'm sure I look it." 

"That's not what I mean," Logan corrects him, leading Roman to the edge of his bed and easily him onto it. Finally getting a good look at Logan, Roman spots the doll he's holding in his non-dominant hand. Roman stares at it for a few seconds, before gasping. 

"Voodoo?! You... you... you bitch!" 

That earns a small smile from Logan. He lays Roman down back on the bed, and then fixes Roman's chair, sitting on it as he summons a rag and some water to wipe the doll clean, soaking up the mess residing within it's moist hole and quelling Roman's overstimulated whines in the process. Afterwards, Logan props the doll up on Roman's desk, to be left unbothered until the activator wears off, and focuses his attention towards Roman. 

Producing a different rag from thin air, Logan swipes away Roman's sweat, loose tears, and his own mess, though he does take a quick mental picture of Roman both so exhausted and so... unrefined. It's rather beautiful. And it'd perhaps be a good picture to recall during particularly infuriating arguments with Roman later down the line. 

"There," Logan declares, as the wet cloth finishes it's descend down Roman's thigh. "All clean. Do you need anything? Water? A snack?" 

"Cuddles." 

Logan narrows his eyes, but Roman catches the way he tries to repress his smile. 

"I'm much too busy to offer you... cuddles." 

Roman rolls onto his side, pulling his blankets around his body before pouting. "Please?" he begs, though he sounds more playful than anything, as if knowing that all it'll take is a little bit of pushing for Logan to agree. "Rest is important, as is physical affection. Both of which you'll be provided with if you slide under the blankets with me... preferably after taking your pants off as well, so we're on equal footing." 

Logan looks as though he's considering it, before finally chuckling softly, his shoulders relaxing as he undoes his jeans and and pulls both those down and his boxers, so that Roman doesn't feel singled out, before sliding into bed with him. Immediately, he's being pulled into a tight hug, with Roman tucking his face into Logan's soft chest and smiling gleefully.

And Logan hugs him back, all former frustration having melted away through sexual stress relief. And now that Logan's aware of how effective that was... he might just have to use a couple of the other dolls when the other sides are bothering him as well. But, that was for another time. For now, cuddling. 

Chapter Text

Remus has always been close with his grandparents, compared to his regular parents, at least. After basically being pressured to move out, he’s gotten himself a house near them, and they were more than willing to help him furnish it. Couches, televisions, a desk for his projects - but it was the non-important stuff that really stuck out to him.

They ended up giving him an old P.E.T. computer, which he currently had set on a table in his garage. It’s an old personal computer that his grandparents said they inherited from a random couple that moved away. They never bothered trying to use it, but perhaps Remus could fix it up. Or smash it into bits.

And while the idea of shattering such technology really speaks to him, Remus does admittedly want to know if he can at least get the thing to turn on. And once he’s eventually bored of it, then he’ll pull it apart!

So, after a few YouTube tutorials, and complete luck while fucking around, the screen suddenly blinks to life!

But immediately Remus is a bit curious, because all of the tutorials he watched launched the computer into a basic startup screen, with desk icons and outdated internet functions, but this one loads onto a dark green screen, with a blinking bright green typing line. At first, Remus believes he might have to type something in - a password, maybe? Or a code? - but then letters are being typed without Remus even touching the keyboard, frantically clicking out a quick ‘please don’t shut me off again.’

Surprised, Remus stares at the computer, the clicks made from the computer typing itself echoing through the dim area.

Nothing happens after that line is typed - aside from Remus holding his breath - before the computer deletes its sentence and then types out more.

‘I apologize if it appears I’m being frantic, but you must understand that I’ve been stored away for decades. I haven’t been powered on in years, and I’d much prefer to stay aware than gather dust somewhere.’

Remus stares at the computer’s screen, and then collapses back into his chair. “Holy shit,” he utters, as his eyes read and then re-read the computer’s message to him.

Once again, the computer is deleting its message, and typing a new one. ‘I understand that this is a lot to process, but I implore you to at least consider my explanation.’

Remus licks his lips, and glances around his garage, before shrugging. “Alright,” he mumbles, “I’m considering it.”

‘Thank you. My name is Logan; it was given to me by my original programmers. I was involved in an experiment revolving around granting computers sentience in hopes they’d be more personalized for the general public. However, these tests never came to full fruition, and so I’m one of very few self-aware machines to have ever existed. At some point I was given away, and at another point I was powered down. My intelligence and abilities have been neglected continuously by society, but I assure you I can be of use in any way you deem fit. So long as I am powered on.’

“Well you’re currently plugged into my garage,” Remus states, glancing at Logan’s power cord. “If I wanted to move you somewhere better, I’d have to shut you down.”

Logan clicks frantically again. ‘I can stay on whilst unplugged. Truthfully, the electricity from your outlets are only required to surge my circuits briefly. I can keep everything running otherwise.’

“You won’t run out of power on your own?”

‘I’ll need to be shocked every now and then, but it’s truly no trouble. You won’t find it annoying.’

“I don’t find this annoying,” Remus counters, kicking his legs up onto the table beside Logan’s blinking screen. “I find you fascinating. I also think there’s a chance I could be high on my garage fumes… I’ve done a lot of unethical shit in here. Are you sure you’re real?”

‘Positive.’

Remus grins. “Sick.”

‘I cannot be sick. I am a machine.’

Logan has calculated multiple scenarios regarding how good or bad this situation can go, from Remus freaking out once he’s processed everything and immediately shutting Logan off forever, to hearing Logan out and leaving him on in order to be useful once again. However, Remus just sits up and scoots forward, and playfully jests “well, there go my plans to smash you! Shame; I was kind of looking forward to the do-it-yourself rage room experience.” He pokes at Logan’s screen, which flickers on and off as though Logan’s being poked in the face.

Remus then leans his face closer, and proclaims “seriously though, this is awesome! How were they able to create something like you? And how could they just… drop it once it worked? Why didn’t they tell anybody? Why didn’t they sell your technology and make absolute bank? How was something so old given such fresh sentience? Do you need any repairs?”

The constant stream of questions leaves Logan with no window to answer them - though he does in fact try - only for Remus to stand and lean Logan back a bit, opening up a panel beneath Logan’s keyboard and checking out his hardware. Immediately a series of exclamation marks are lining Logan’s screen, but Remus ignores them as he pushes his fingers into the panel and traces his fingers over the old wiring, wondering aloud how Logan works, only to be startled by rapid-fire clicking and a surplus of binary overtaking Logan’s screen. It scrolls repeatedly down, more and more 1s and 0s overtaking his countenance until Remus pulls his fingers out, panicked at the intense beeping coming from Logan’s system.

“Shit,” Remus curses, as he closes the panel and sets Logan back down. “Fuck, are you that fragile? Did I break you? Shit.”

He barely touched anything! And when Logan’s screen goes suddenly dark, Remus deflates, bummed that he might have just murdered his new freaky little computer buddy before even getting the chance to prod at him, but luckily Logan’s screen is flickering on a minute later, with a loading bar progressing across the screen. It starts up rather fast, and then Logan’s back how he was previously, with his typing line blinking, waiting to say something.

“Logan…?” Remus begins, his long nail tapping at the screen.

There’s nothing for a moment, and then a simple ‘sorry.’

Immediately Remus sighs in relief, pleased he didn’t just accidentally nuke Logan’s sentience due to his own impulsivity.

Before Remus can ask what happened, Logan’s already moving to explain, typing out “nobody’s touched me there since my creation. I apologize for my sensitivity, and for any emotional distress my impromptu shutdown may have caused.” And once he’s sure Remus has read that, he backspaces until all that’s left is the blinking cursor, and waits for Remus to respond. 

“I thought I fucking killed you, dude,” Remus huffs, before he tilts Logan’s mechanical body back again. He carefully opens the underside panel once more. “Your wires are so damn old… it wouldn’t be a surprise if they snapped from just the slightest bit of pressure.”

Logan beeps in annoyance.

Remus continues without a care. “What do you mean by ‘sensitive,’ though?” Painful, perhaps? Or just uncomfortable?

But Logan’s vertical bar just pauses mid-flash, staying invisible for a few seconds longer than standard, before words are slowly typed out, with the clicking of the letters emphasized within the echoes as Logan explains ‘Not painful, nor discomfort. If I were to describe it to you, I would equate it to… sensual pleasure.’

Remus’s eyes light up in glee. In a matter of seconds he goes from concerned, to absolutely intrigued.

“Pleasure?!” Remus repeats, grinning wildly. “That’s… that’s so fucking hot!”

Remus keeps an arm around the computer as though he’s cradling a human head so he can still watch Logan’s screen, but still keeps the computer bent backwards so he can trace the pad of his pointer finger around the panel’s entrance.

‘What are you doing?’ Logan asks, and Remus determines that the irregular blinking of his vertical cursor equates to a stuttering breath.

“You told me you could be of use in any way I deem fit,” Remus huskily muses, licking his lips, “and right now, what would be of the most use to me is letting me find out whether or not I can make a computer orgasm.”

Remus laughs as a line of exclamation marks decorate the top of Logan’s screen, but Logan quickly deletes these as Remus’s fingers circle his panel. And in its place he types out ‘okay.’

It’s simple, and Remus feels a little weird receiving consent from an inanimate object, but his excitement overrides the sheer absurdity of the situation, and so he plunges his fingers back inside of Logan. This time, he rubs it over one of Logan’s circuit boards and enjoys the stabbing texture beneath his fingers as he watches Logan’s screen closely, eagerly awaiting the reaction he now knows to associate with pleasure and not pain. 

Logan’s cursor flashes rapidly before Logan’s countenance is once again being overwhelmed with binary code, with a little shock being administered to Remus’s fingers as well. It’s the zap that has Remus jumping in surprise, and then digging his fingers in deeper.

“I wonder if I could fuck your little panel,” Remus wonders aloud, as his digits caress Logan’s cords. “I mean, the panel’s a bit small, and I might damage you forever, but I think I could make it work.”

Struggling to say much between the 1s and 0s filling his screen - with hyphens typed representing gasps, and misspelled words representative of slurring - Logan finally types out a poorly written and very spaced out ‘please.’

“Honestly, I didn’t think I could ever be this attracted to a computer, but fuck, you - somehow - are ridiculously sexy. Isn’t that neat?” Remus’s eyes flicker towards the silver PET logo beneath Logan’s screen, and then he looks back at the binary, grinning. “Huh, pet?”

The pet-name is both literal - as it’s the name of Logan’s computer type, with him being a P.E.T. computer - while also being a subtle reminder that Logan is technically his property now. His pet.

The name however has the brightness of Logan’s computer screen increasing to the max - almost blinding Remus with the intense glow - before it shuts off entirely, with Logan’s internal fans clicking on soon after. What’s more interesting than that though is the liquid that coats Remus’s fingers at the sudden shut-off, and Remus grins when he pulls his hand out and realizes that his digits are drenched in machine oil.

Feeling incredibly satisfied, Remus waits for Logan to boot himself back up. He’s not concerned in the slightest; Logan has already explained this reaction is sexual. And while Remus wishes that Logan could form actual words or make facial expressions, his imagination has always been more than enough to fuel his fantasies, and so persists off of his daydreams as he rubs himself through his pants to the repeating memory of Logan’s screen becoming overwhelmed with numbers and light and then shutting off abruptly, overtaken forcibly by what must have been an intense orgasm.

Logan doesn’t take too long to come back online, but it means once he does he’s greeted with the incredibly flustering visual of Remus, legs spread and cock out, using Logan’s oil as lube as he pumps his cock. And when Logan doesn’t type anything right away, Remus just grins at him and playfully asks “are you at a loss for words?” before not letting him answer as he props himself up on the table as well, laying Logan carefully back so that Remus has easy access to his open panel.

“You have no idea how badly I want to push my cock into your wires and fuck you properly,” Remus grits, drool spilling from the corner of his lips and splattering messily against Logan’s bright green face.

That finally has Logan typing once more, spelling out a few errors here and there that are quickly backspaced and adjusted, as if he’s too flustered to communicate properly. He manages to get out ‘that’ll probably bring you more pain than pleasure. You risk getting shocked, and it’s not like my internal build is soft or malleable; it’s all jutted and wired. It may…’ Logan pauses, as if hesitating out of embarrassment, before deleting his message and starting again. ‘Doing this may also overwhelm my servers much more quickly.”

Remus snorts. “Don’t yuck my yum, pet; you have no idea what I’m into.” Remus flicks Logan’s screen, before adding “it’s not like you’d be able to stop me anyway,” which just has Logan’s screen brightening in fluster yet again.

Very quickly, a blushing emoticon is typed onto the shining screen as Remus runs his thumb over the panel's lip, rubbing it sweetly while lewdly teasing his cock, making Logan type a surplus of embarrassed emoticons that feed into Remus’s desire for some sort of expression. At least this way Remus can gauge how Logan is feeling outside of having to read.

‘Are you reaaaa’ Logan stammers, and rushes to delete his words in order correct himself, ‘are you really going to risk electrocution just for a quick bit of pleasure?’ 

“Absolutely,” Remus replies without hesitation, and then sets his hands on either side of Logan’s bulky body, and lining his cock up to the panel. He smiles wide at the bright, blushing screen right before thrusting his cock into the mess of tangled wires and circuits, causing Logan’s screen to immediately be seized by a rush of binary once more.

Logan has to desperately try and focus on not shutting down due to the intense pleasure that overtakes him, but it’s incredibly difficult for a variety of reasons. If he focuses, maybe he can keep his system from electrocuting his new owner! Maybe he can get some extra words out! But despite these beliefs, little shocks are administered to Remus’s shaft, causing rough groans and pathetic moans to spill from Remus’s mouth, and Logan’s typed out words to be poorly strung together and very quickly lost by Remus amongst all the binary.

Furthermore, Remus feels little jolts of electricity shocking him every time he grits out that Logan’s his pet.

“I’m going to be rubbing against your circuits for so long,” Remus groans, as he fucks into Logan quickly, feeling his wires and cords become tangled around his length. “Better try not to shut down, pet. It’s not like I’ll stop even if you do.”

Logan starts beeping excitedly, with stuttered out “yes, yes, yes,” mixing in with the 1s and 0s. But Logan doesn’t know Remus’s name - Remus didn’t introduce himself when Logan did - and so Logan defaults to the most formal title he can think of, leaving Remus delighted when he sees Logan begin calling him “sir” alongside his begging. 

Remus pants and drools over Logan while fucking roughly into him, leaving splattered spit on Logan’s hot screen and digging his nails into the table as he ruts his cock into the tangled wires.

“This is so fucking hot,” Remus moans, as the tip of his shaft scratches along Logan’s circuit boards. “I’ve been-” he pauses suddenly to groan and squeeze his eyes shut, bending almost painfully over Logan to touch his head to Logan’s box, as though clinking their foreheads together, “-I’ve been looking for a new fleshlight. Sure, using a computer as a cock toy is a waste of technology, but it’s not like you have the hardware to complain.”

Remus peeks an eye open at the rush of clicking that fills his ears, and sees that the binary code on Logan’s face is almost unreadable with how bright his screen is.

“Would you complain? If you were fucked like the pet you are every day?”

And Remus is shocked in response, which would suffice as a good enough answer, but what makes it better is that immediately after, Logan’s face is going blindingly bright, and then shutting down once again, with oil squirting around Remus’s cock as Logan’s fucked and talked into his second orgasm.

When he boots back up - which takes a little bit longer, as though he’s getting a bit tired the longer they go on - he’s shocked to see that Remus is still shamelessly fucking into him. He’s left with no time to process this situation as he’s instead thrusted back into overwhelming pleasure.

And Remus just mocks him. “Did you think I would stop, pet? Huh? Just because you’re pathetically sensitive doesn’t mean I am.”

Remus feels heat surrounding his cock as Logan’s fans struggle to keep up with his overheating system, and shortly after is having another orgasm - this one premature and sudden as more numbers fill Logan’s screen, scrolling quickly by.

Remus pulls out this time, and strokes his cock, which is slick with machine oil. He pumps it quickly and messily, until he’s coming over the front of Logan’s body, getting off on technically coating his face with semen. It’s also what guarantees the least amount of damage, as machine oil was meant to be inside of Logan; come was probably not.

Logan’s fans blast as fast and as powerfully as they can to cool him as he shuts down for the final time, and takes his time rebooting again. When he flickers back to life, Remus is nowhere in sight. Sure, Logan’s pushed onto his “back,” and so can really only stare at the ceiling, but he can’t hear Remus anywhere either. He wishes he could look around, and does call out for Remus by beeping once or twice, but is met with silence.

Luckily, Remus is scampering back into the room moments later, and shushing Logan’s beeping with a self-satisfied grin on his face. He’s holding a wet cloth, and uses it to wipe down Logan’s face and in between his (admittedly dusty) keys, until Logan’s free of not only fluids, but also any dirt and grime that’ve gathered on him over the years.

And while Remus wipes, Logan slowly types out a question.

‘What is your name? I believe I never asked.’

Remus laughs, and promptly ignores it. “Really? A question? No appreciative thanks or compliments thrown my way? Not only did I just talk your sexy… boxy… computer ass into multiple orgasms, but I was also kind enough to not come in your circuits! And you don’t even comment on it?”

Logan’s screen brightens in embarrassment - as though he feels sheepish - and he quickly types up an apology, followed by a genuine thank you, momentarily forgetting about his question.

Smirking, Remus brushes his fingers over Logan’s silver acronym. “Good pet,” he murmurs, and enjoys hearing Logan’s fans spin in response.

“You seem to already know my name though, pet,” Remus then says, nudging Logan a bit with his elbow. “Sir, wasn’t it? That’s what it’ll be, to you at least.” And then Remus is picking Logan up with ease, and kicking the door of his garage open, stepping into his house where he’s already decided to keep Logan permanently. He knows the perfect spot for him, too. “And you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with it. Won’t you, pet?”

And Logan beeps excitedly in response, admittedly delighted to have found such an interesting way to be useful. 

Chapter Text

"I want to go out," Janus proclaims, waltzing into the master bedroom where Roman was folding his clothes on the floor, with a laundry basket set to his side.

Roman tilts his head up, smiling at Janus as he lines up the sleeves of a dark red shirt and presses the fabric into a flat fold. "Out?" he asks, playfully. "Out where?"

"Out shopping," Janus elaborates, bending down to run his hands over Roman's shoulders. "I could use a new shirt or two."

"Use? Or want?"

Janus grins, and kisses the side of Roman's head. "Neither. Both. Whatever fits your fantasy more."

Roman's cheeks go pink. "What fantasy?"

"The fantasy of being used just for your money, rich boy," Janus clarifies, and pulls away from Roman entirely, this time to sit back on their bed. "Don't tell me you don't get off on being treated like you're just cash and cards for me to spend. We've had whole sessions revolving around it, love."

Roman stands up too, smiling shyly but blushing wildly as he moves towards Janus. "Suppose we have. Why should the past warrant future usage of my wallet?"

That comment has Janus's eyes twinkling in mischief, and he smiles in such a way that Roman just knows he's walked himself into one of Janus's intricate (and sensual) schemes.

"Who said I'd be using your wallet?" Janus asks.

"You don't have money," Roman counters, as Janus pulls him closer by his collar, and into a soft kiss.

Against Roman's lips, Janus muses "well I never said I wouldn't be using your money, just not your wallet."

Roman presses another kiss to Janus's mouth, and then blinks his eyes halfway open, mumbling "that doesn't make much sense."

And then Janus is pulling away, and pulling his phone out instead. He holds it close to his chest, between himself and Roman, and quickly opens an app. "Have you heard of inanimate transformation?" he asks, while conveniently logging into an app made specifically for transforming (obviously paid for by Roman's card, of course).

Roman looks a little confused. "No. What is it?"

"You'll love it," Janus assures him, before sitting up and pushing Roman slightly away, so that he's standing far enough for Janus to point his camera at him. He snaps a photo of Roman's body, enters in his height and weight, and then is taken to a list that he scrolls through with intent. He already knows what he wants; he just needs to find it.

"What is it?" Roman repeats, sounding a bit more excited at merely watching Janus become so invested in this... thing.

And Janus glances up at him. While doing it without explanation would be fun due to Roman's surprise - and the app's failsafe that would reverse all transformation if any discomfort or displeasure is felt - Janus knows Roman's curiosity is intense, and decides he deserves a basic rundown at the very least.

"Inanimate transformation is exactly what it claims to be," Janus vaguely describes, with a sly wink. "You'll he turned into something inanimate - of my choosing, of course - and will be completely at my mercy. Still able to see, think, feel, but unable to talk or move."

Roman flushes, but purses his lips. "That doesn't sound very sensual," he mumbles, which just has Janus laughing outright at him.

"Needy boy," he scolds, which has Roman pouting and moving back towards Janus, who lets Roman kiss at his face with little complaint. "Trust me, doll, you'll enjoy it; I'll make sure of it. Okay?"

"Okay. I trust you."

"Good, good." Janus pushes Roman away, and clicks on the item he desires Roman to be. Amongst more interactive things like fidget cubes or controllers, and more intimate options like underwear and socks, Janus wanted something that had both a use and would be unassuming if he were to fumble with it or carry it around permanently, especially out in public, which is where he wants to go.

And just as he said, he wouldn't be using Roman's wallet to pay for the things he wanted. His money, yes, but not the wallet itself.

No, instead - as he watches the loading bar progress across the screen - he'd be using Roman as his wallet, and he guarantees that each fold of his pristine leather and pockets are going to feel so much pleasure it'll be overwhelming.

Roman feels warmth overtake him as his body tingles, as though all of it is falling asleep simultaneously, his atoms dispersing and condensing until his literal matter has shifted from flesh to fine leather, from a functioning person to just pockets made to hold valuables. It's dizzying, disorienting, and hard to process as Roman's line of sight falls from Janus on the bed to beneath the mattress, as he lays limp on the ground as just an inanimate object.

He can see all around, as though his eyes aren't bound to a specific place, but trying to speak is futile, and trying to move is pointless. He can just lay there.

Roman watches with anticipation as Janus leans over the edge of the bed curiously, and shivers internally at the way Janus grins when he sees him.

"Look at you," Janus murmurs, as he grabs the reddened leather wallet from off the ground, though he does have to dig it out of Roman's clothes (of which Roman literally shrunk right out of). Roman's new body is thick, perfectly capable of holding as much cash or as many coins as Janus wants to stuff him with, and no doubt durable.

To Roman though, it's a shocking and sudden onslaught of new sensations. Janus grabbing him nearly gives him vertigo from how quickly he's being pulled off the ground and into Janus's hands, and the fact that Janus's palm basically envelops his entire body. When Janus presses the pads of his fingers into his fabric, it feels like his skin is being massaged. And when Janus squeezes, it feels like pleasant pressure.

"I'm assuming this doesn't hurt," Janus says, as he presses his palms tightly together with Roman's new form squished between them. "I adjusted the settings on the app to minimize your pain. I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable at all, considering you'll be stuffed into my pocket most of the day. But there's no harm in double checking."

If it did hurt, and Roman was uncomfortable, then he would merely change back. No harm done. 

Janus opens the wallet up, rubbing his thumbs over the inner wallet, before he does what he's most excited about - shoving his fingers into the pockets. 

As soon as Janus's digits slip into the biggest pocket where bills would go, Roman lets out an internal cry. Mentally, he's assaulted with pleasure, so much it's mind breaking. It's as though he's being fucked open by each finger pressing inside of him, and as Janus's fingers pet against his inner seams, Roman feels as though he's going to orgasm immediately.

But he can't.

And that's what's fun about it.

"Still feeling good, I presume?" Janus inquires, though Roman remaining as a perky little wallet gives him his answer already. He really has no idea just how good Roman's feeling though, nor how badly he already needs to come. "Good, good. I believe you're familiar with your cards, right? I'll be needing them, and you're just so good at carrying them normally that I think you'll be even better at carrying them now." 

Janus's words are teasing and playful as he grabs Roman's discarded wallet and begins to pull out the cards and cash from it. He lays them all out, before grabbing the cards one at a time, and slowly sliding them into Roman's slits instead.

Roman is filled with utter humiliation as he's quite literally filled with his own cards, because he knows it's such a mundane thing. An outside observer would have no idea that Roman's actually a person. So many people are going to see him and have no idea that he's trapped in an ever-looping state of ecstasy, and that exhibitionism, that voyeurism, with no real risk but all the payoff turns him on way more than he'd like to admit.

Add to that: the helplessness.

He can't move at all; he can't even squirm a little! He can do nothing to stop the pleasure and he loves it. Roman is left with his own sounds of pleasure echoing within his own mind. Each card inside of him makes him feel more and more full, and Janus is just talking to him like it's nothing.

Surely - at least to some extent - he must know how Roman's feeling, but if he does he doesn't let it show, and just chats him up while casually giving Roman the most intense pleasure he's ever felt.

"I sure am lucky that you make such a good wallet, hm?" Janus asks, as he takes his sweet time pushing every single credit card, gift card, and store-specific member card into Roman's pockets. "I have plenty of space, and you're already holding your cards in place so firmly! And your leather is so nice. Honestly, Roman, I might just have to keep you like this!"

Janus smirks to himself as he pictures how Roman would react if he actually could. With Janus slowly easing each card into Roman, and occasionally pulling one out and deciding he likes it better in a different pocket. Every once in a while he pretends to be distracted by just how nice Roman's inner lining is, and runs his thumbs along the seams and over the interior, while murmuring that Roman makes such a "high-quality wallet."

But alas, he does still want to go out today, and so wraps his teasing up in just a few minutes. Though, those few minutes feel torturously stretched out from Roman's perspective.

He was already feeling so close just from Janus continuously touching him - consistently feeling up his compressed body or stuffing him full of items. He has no idea how he's going to last the rest of the day, let alone the rest of this prep-time!

And that prep-time is filled soon after Janus finishes with the cards, deciding to grab Roman's hefty amount of cash.

"I plan to spend quite a bit today," Janus claims, as he thumbs through the stack of bills, with 50s, 20s, and 10s, flicking by Roman's face at an indecipherable speed. Roman feels a pang of jealousy with how intimately Janus is fiddling with the bills. "I might even need to go to an ATM to get a bit more cash. Not all stores accept cards, you know. Especially in a mall." Janus sticks his tongue out and, under his breath, mutters "stupid outdated storefronts."

He then pushes Roman's cash compartment open, and very carefully pushes the bills into it, filling Roman up more than the latter thought possible. As Janus's fingers and bills press into the pocket, he feels like he's being fucked into more intensely than with the cards, and as Janus playfully dips his fingers in and out of the bulging compartment, Roman's overwhelmed with that pleasure. Coins are dropped into him next, and as they jostle around they feel similarly to that of an intense vibrator, and Roman internally moans at those sensations too.

Roman couldn't ever possibly achieve this amount of pleasure this quickly if he was a person. He's ridiculously sensitive, and he loves that, but he quickly finds something he despises.

He already feels as though he's been brought right to the edge of an orgasm, but despite his needy cries filling his own mind, he's unable to ever achieve relief. And he further cries in despair when Janus heads out of the room, claiming to need a glass of water. He's set down so calmly on the counter, and ignored as Janus fetches a drink before his and Roman's endeavor. And Roman is stuck feeling pleasured.

He tries to convince himself that if Janus just kept touching and toying with him for a few more seconds he might be able to come, but he has the creeping suspicion that that won't be the case, and that he'll be left on the edge for much longer than he wants to be.

Still though, in his desperate state he can't help but want more under the false pretense that it'll give him the relief he craves. But Janus ignores him and gets water, leaving him stuffed full, frictionless, and helpless to watch as Janus takes his time hydrating before they go out.

To some extent, Roman even feels like he might burst! He's full of cash and coins and cards, and the culmination has him fuller than ever. But he was made to be a bulky foldable wallet, and so Janus obviously wanted to make sure he was full! He's about half as thick as his own wallet - which carries the same amount of stuff as Janus is forcing him to carry - but obviously way more sensitive. And he's been folded shut like it's nothing, even though he's barely staying closed.

"There," Janus sighs, after he's chugged a glass of nice, refreshing water. He grabs Roman's body, and runs his thumb over the front of it, where a fancy "R" is embroidered. Janus smiles as he rubs it. "Look at you... nice and full. How do you feel? Full, I imagine?"

Roman can't answer. He tries to - he really tries to - but he's unable. But he's feeling so, so full, and so, so good.

"I do still want to go shopping," Janus then says, as he squeezes Roman absentmindedly. "Though... you know I despise driving. Is walking okay? It'll be a quick trip, I promise. And it's warm out today; you know I enjoy the sun against my scales."

Janus feels a bit silly talking to an object, but he's sure Roman appreciates the acknowledgement. And as he gets ready to go, he slides Roman into his back pocket. He can feel just how full the wallet is as his pocket is tightly stretched to its limits to make room for the bulging pouch. 

Roman feels intense pressure around him as he’s pressed firmly into the pocket, with his body folded closed around itself and all of his holes, pockets, and slits filled to the brim. It’s pleasure in his ass, in his mouth, against his body - pleasure anywhere and everywhere that can realistically be pleasured. And once Janus starts walking, the coins inside of him start bouncing around, clinking against each other in the miniscule space they have, making Roman internally cry.

It’s like a vibrator buzzing inside and around him. He’s so close; he needs to come! He needs to! And he can’t. And Janus leaves the house.

It’s truly not too far of a walk to the mall, as their house was just a block or two away. And luckily the mall was the store Janus was keen on visiting, as he wanted to do a bit of window shopping! He also couldn’t pass on the opportunity to walk around while purposefully neglecting and tormenting his lovely boyfriend.

He’s aware that Roman is probably aching with need already, but the day has hardly begun! And Janus doesn’t intend on ending their play session any sooner than he has to.

Roman, for now, is still desperately holding out hope for an orgasm.

This is the fastest he’s ever gotten close! Every part of his body is being stimulated, even though he hardly has a body anymore! He’s just a wallet to be pried open and used, stuffed full and folded, and crammed into pockets, and it feels so good.

Due to the constraining nature of Janus’s pocket, Roman can’t see anything, and so can’t gauge how close they are to the mall. And it’s not like Janus is going to talk to a wallet, especially while out in public when people can see him! He’d look crazy! So Roman’s left anxiously awaiting his next opportunity to be useful. And surely, surely, when he’s useful, he’ll be granted the privilege of coming! 

Roman can just barely tell when Janus actually arrives at the mall, and the only reason he’s able to figure it out is due to the chatter of other patrons that Janus passes. Luckily, that noise dies down when Janus steps into one of the shops.

It’s one he frequently visits for general skin care, and as Roman hears the muffled sounds of Janus picking up items and setting them down, he swells with anticipation. Thrill runs through his inanimate body as he waits in utter agony to be used.

Janus takes his sweet time looking around the store. He picks up products, sets them down, and picks them up again, solely to torture Roman. He knows what he needs, of course - he’s pretty fond of his typical brands and isn’t interested in experimenting - but he has time to dawdle.

And by the time Janus finally reaches the check out line, Roman feels like he’s about to burst. He cries out as he’s grabbed, begging Janus mentally in a desperate mantra of ‘please! Please! Yes, Janus! Please, I need it!’ even though his pleas go unheard.

As Janus’s fingers grip his form, he wishes he could rub against them, though he’s instead forced to hear as each product is set against the counter. The beeping is torture as it slowly rings out rhythmically, but it further builds Roman’s delusions. He’s confident that as soon as Janus sticks his fingers inside of him, he’ll be met with sweet pleasure and instant relief, and then he’ll get to experience the build up to an orgasm all over again! Will he get to come every time they go to a new store? He’d be in pleasure heaven! Yes! Yes!

Janus is informed of the total once everything is rung up, and begins pulling out the money. He purposefully fumbles with the wallet and the dollars, though to the cashier it just looks like he’s debating between cash and card.

Since there’s nobody in line behind him, he even takes a minute to subtly rub his fingers against Roman’s seams, before eventually deciding on grabbing bills and paying with cash.

His fingers are inside of Roman for as long as they possibly can be without it seeming weird, but after just a few seconds of Janus’s digits thrusting in and out of him Roman is coming to the daunting realization that he feels permanently stuck on the edge. He’s not getting any closer to release than he was when Janus was touching him previously.

He sees a sadistic glint in Janus’s eyes as he pulls cash from Roman’s cash compartment, as though he knows what sort of torture he’s inflicting, and in response Roman cries out in pure, unfiltered need.

‘No… no, no! Janus, baby, please, it feels too good! I need more! I need to come! I’ll do anything!’

He’d be embarrassed if he had an actual voice to plead, but he doesn’t. And so Janus can’t even hear his shamelessly slutty bargaining, nor can Janus fully process just how edged Roman is.

So Roman’s left to watch as Janus pays for his things, and then pushes the receipt and spare change into Roman’s folds before closing the wallet once more, and stuffing it back into his pocket, depriving Roman once more and making him sob in pleasurable despair. 

After his items get bagged, Janus walks off to the bathroom. He checks each stall to make sure they’re empty, and then sets his bag down beneath the sink, pulling his wallet out. He holds it up to the mirror in order to let Roman watch while Janus runs his thumb over the outer leather, specifically caressing the embroidered “R” on the front.

“You’ve realized you can’t come by now, I’m sure,” Janus muses, pressing the pad of his finger into Roman’s body. “Do you find that torturous? Are you desperate yet?”

Roman can’t answer, but he sure as hell tries. Yes, he’s desperate! Yes, he needs to come! But Janus can’t hear his plight, and ignores his edging anyway, as he opens Roman up and slides a few of his cards back and forth, before closing him again, resisting the urge to give Roman more intense pleasure just to tease him.

“There’s a great coffee shop on the other side of the mall,” he comments, as though he’s having a casual conversation with his boyfriend, and not talking to a dumb, inanimate wallet. “There’s a closing store on the west side, too. I saw a coat there last time I was here that I’d love to have. I’m sure you won’t mind buying it for me.” Janus’s finger stalls, depriving Roman of any touch despite the pressure that comes with being firmly held. “You know… a mani-pedi also sounds nice. I haven’t had my nails done in a while. Sure, as a wallet you’d be crushed beneath me for most of the procedure, but you’re just a wallet, so what do I care?”

The idea of being ignored for an hour or two as Janus gets his nails filed to perfection is a fantasy that makes Roman cry, because he knows being sat on will negate the brief pleasure he gets in passing. The coins inside of him won’t bounce if Janus is still, and his inner pockets won’t be fingered open if Janus has no need to pay during the manicure.

He tries to plead with Janus, but Janus can’t hear him, and wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

What does it matter what Roman wants? He’s just an object. He’s just something to be carried around and used to Janus’s liking. 

And usually, Janus is absolutely an in and out shopper. He’ll go the path that gets him in and out the fastest! But with the way he’s talking, Roman’s afraid that Janus will spend his entire day in the mall! It’s cruel and mean, and undeniably hot, even if Roman doesn’t want it at all.

Roman would squirm if he could. He desperately wants to grind and touch himself and finish, but he can’t. And as he’s tucked back into Janus’s pocket, he lets out a cry of pleasured displeasure, knowing he’ll be stuck on the edge yet again.

Luckily for Roman, Janus really doesn’t want to spend more time in the mall than necessary. He got his skincare products, and he wasn’t lying about wanting a new coat, but his mani-pedi can fortunately be reserved for another day. He does begin walking off towards that store though, once again filling Roman’s mind and body with the overwhelmingly delightful sensation of coins jingling around inside of him. 

To Roman, time is measured in significant moments, and any time spent not giving him attention is stretched out until his neglect feels like it’s going on for hours, with nothing but the full feeling inside of him keeping him sexually satiated (as satiated he can be without relief, of course).

However, he quickly becomes excited again when he hears familiar beeping once more, as the coat Janus wanted to get is scanned, and the security tag unclipped. Roman would be writhing desperately if he could move, knowing that at any moment he’ll be pulled out and used again. He’s so excited, and it makes him feel humiliated, because he knows the pleasure he’ll receive won’t give him relief. And yet he still wants the pleasure anyway.

Janus pulls Roman out of his pocket and sets it on the counter, waiting to pay as his coat is neatly folded and placed into a plastic bag. As the cashier bags it, however, they turn towards Roman and gasp “that wallet is so cute; where’d you get it?”

Although surprised, Janus fights back a cheesy smile at the compliment. “Oh, this?” He slides the wallet forward, letting the cashier innocently admire it. “My boyfriend actually got this for me. Truly, I kind of love it, but I have no idea where he bought it from! I believe he said it was one of a kind… so he must have gotten it custom-made.” Janus leans over the counter as the cashier brushes their thumb along the embroidery. “That’s his initial stitched into it. Cute, right?”

“Your boyfriend got you a wallet with his initial on it?” It’s more a probing question as opposed to any sort of judgement, but Janus merely snickers at the comment.

“He likes to be appreciated,” Janus explains, his amusement clear in his voice. “I don’t mind. It’s a sturdy wallet, and that’s all I ask for. Besides, I’ll always think of him when I look at it, and that’s always a bonus.”

The cashier sighs romantically. “Aww. That’s sweet.”

They pass the wallet back to Janus, who pulls one of Roman’s cards from a slit and pushes it into the card reader, though Roman is still bursting with other visas and capital ones just begging to be used. Another day, perhaps. Still, one card being taken from him leaves him whining and begging for it to fill him once more. Being empty in the slightest is torturous, as though he’s being denied his purpose! And he cries out in delight when Janus slowly pushes it back in, before whimpering as he's shoved back into Janus's pocket. 

 Janus is handed his bag after, and waved bye by the cashier as he walks out, which has Janus frowning a bit as he leaves the store. He only has three bags - two filled with body products and one with the coat - but it's three bags too many! If Roman were human, then he'd carry the bags for him, but unfortunately Janus was left to drag the (relatively light) bags home himself. 

That's right; he was on his way out of the mall. Not that Roman could tell. 

Roman moans as his form is pressed and shifted within Janus's pocket, bills folding and rubbing against his inner walls. He doesn't even process that Janus seems to be walking a bit longer than normal, though he does mentally perk up as he hears a door open. Was Janus going back to the bathroom or something? Malls don't typically have doors. And then Janus's bags are hitting the ground, and Roman seems to realize they're home. Janus sighs in relief as he flops onto his bed, kicking his shoes off while pulling Roman from his back pocket and getting himself comfortable as he flips the wallet open. 

"Hello, love," Janus murmurs, grinning slyly. "Did you enjoy our little trip to the mall? I know I did." 

'Please!' Roman cries out, pleading with Janus to touch him now that they're in the comfort of their own home. 'Please, I need it! Janus, please!'

"Let me get those bills out of you, yeah? They belong in your actual wallet, after all." 

'No, no, no!' 

Roman cries as Janus makes good on his word and slowly pulls the cash out of Roman's cash compartment, setting it on the nightstand with the intention of packing it into Roman's wallet later. The coins come next, with Roman being shaken until he's moaning in disorientation as the pennies and dimes fall out of him, leaving him feeling emptier and emptier, with the cards being slid out last. Janus takes his time rubbing his thumb along Roman's inner slits as he carefully pushes each card out, and sets them aside as well. One by one Roman's left desperate as all of the items that gave him purpose and pleasure. And then he's empty. And it leaves him needy and sobbing. 

"There we go!" Janus says, as though Roman isn't begging to be filled and touched, even though his pleas never reach Janus's ears. "All empty. Now I don't have to worry about ruining your cash." 

His words are almost missed by Roman's noisy being, but Roman isn't able to miss Janus undoing his pants and shoving them down just enough to get his cocks out. Janus gives them a few strokes with his free hand just to get himself worked up, and then brings Roman closer, cupping his body with his palm and pushing one of his cocks against Roman's inside slits and pockets, where his cards once were. 

Janus then closes the wallet just enough to get a grip, and begins to slowly pump it up and down his length, groaning in the process. 

"Fuck, Roman, even as a wallet you're still a great sex toy," he praises, as Roman's form is pushed up to the tip of his cock, and then dragged back down, rubbing against his shaft as it slowly gets slick with the pre beginning to roll down from Janus's slit. 

And Roman can't help but moan as his insides are stimulated by Janus's rubbing. He can taste Janus's cock and the salty pre that's lubing up his length in its entirety; he can taste Janus, and he can feel him so intensely too. And as he's squeezed around Janus's cock, he only feels better. He's worked up and up, rubbed so intensely that he almost forgets how empty he feels, until he quickly reaches his peak. And he's held at it. Held, and forced to wait. 

Janus moans himself as he strokes himself with both hands - one for each cock, although one of his hands is also gripping Roman - and works himself towards an orgasm. Though, he's not too quick to come, and slows down once or twice while he feels himself getting close. 

"Keep feeling this good and I might just not even turn you back," Janus mutters, as he pushes his face into his shoulder. One of his eyes stays peeked open in order to stare at Roman's inanimate form swallowing his cock the way a wallet would swallow up cards. "You can just stay my perky little wallet forever. What else are you good for other than holding my money?" 

Roman cries out desperately at Janus's words as Janus compresses his body tighter around his cock, and tries to squirm as he watches Janus's cheeks go pink and his breath hitch. 

Janus's hands speed up around his cock as his body feels hot. He really does think Roman makes a magnificent wallet, but he can't help but picture Roman's face in place of the leather object, being rubbed against Janus's cock and tortured due to his own pleasure being neglected. And that pathetic desperation that Janus knows Roman is experiencing is what finally pushes him over the edge, leaving him groaning quietly as he comes, coating Roman's body in semen until he's drenched and ruined by it. And then he's dropped onto the bed, left tasting Janus's mess with every crevice and fold present on his inanimate figure. 

Janus shifts his position, and Roman cries needily as he thinks Janus is getting up, only to feel that dizzying warmth and tingling spread over his body again, until he's grown into a human once more. He's nude, though he is coated with Janus's come from the face down, with semen streaking across his pretty flushed face, with the excess dripping down his neck and pecs. 

His eyes are brimming with tears as he immediately and shakily begs "please! Please, Janus, touch me, please!" 

His arms tremble as he leans forward onto them, and Janus lets out a soft, genuine laugh as he guides Roman to lay back by setting a soft hand on his breast to push him backwards. But Janus's palm grinds over Roman's sensitive nipple, and Roman's body - which just spent the past hour or so being delectably abused - is incredibly sensitive, and so this bare minimum amount of pleasure has Roman spiraling over the edge and coming quickly and untouched, his cock twitching as come spurts out of him in intense streaks, dirtying the comforter and Janus's pants in the process, as Roman falls back against the bed and cries out in pleasure. 

Even Janus is startled by the sudden orgasm! But he didn't torture Roman all day just for their pleasure to end this soon!

"Oh, my poor, poor dear," Janus begins, in mock sympathy, as he leans over Roman. Roman looks up at him with tears running down his face. He's shaking, and his breath is quivering just as much. "Is that all you have in you? I thought you'd want a proper orgasm!" 

"I do," Roman weakly insists, his voice desperate. "I do, please! Please, please, please!" 

Janus's eyes shine in amusement. "Really? You think you can handle it?" 

"Yes, yes, yes!" 

"Alright, love. Anything for you. Especially after you've been such a good wallet for me today. You were so good for me, Roman, holding my cash and my cards so well!" Janus wraps his hand around Roman's limp cock, and feels it slowly firm up in his hand as he strokes it. Roman moans in sensitivity, his body overwhelmed and oversensitive, but still willing to take whatever else Janus is willing to give him. "You're the best wallet I've ever owned! Did you like it, Roman? Being completely at my mercy? Being filled up and folded and kept safely in my pocket?" 

"Yes, yes," Roman gasps, hardly able to catch his breath. 

"Did you like being admired?" Janus squeezes the base of Roman's cock, and watches as Roman's back arches off the bed. "It seems that I wasn't the only one who found your form cute." 

"Yes!" Roman moans, bucking his hips needily into Janus's curled fingers. 

Janus smiles, and leans down to kiss Roman's jaw, purposefully avoiding any of the areas stickied with his come. "Good boy. Good wallet. Did you like being edged? Feeling pleasure, but being unable to come? I know I liked imagining your desperation. And it was all worth it, wasn't it? Because I'm being so generous and letting my pretty little wallet come now, aren't I?" 

"Janus!" Roman cries, more tears streaking down his bright red cheeks, as his hand grabs onto Janus's free hand, gripping it as though he needs something to keep him grounded. "Please! Oh, please, please, please!" 

"Come, dear," Janus urges him. "Nothing's stopping you." 

And Roman does. Quickly, suddenly, and forcefully, coming again despite only being touched for just a few moments. A strained noise comes from his mouth, guttural and full of pleasure, and once his orgasm has been milked out of him, he's going limp against the bed, with stuttering, breathy cries being the only thing coming out of him from that point on. 

Janus gives him a few minutes to breathe, before lovingly squeezing Roman's hand. 

"Do you want a bath, my Roman?" he quietly asks, and watches as Roman makes a noise of affirmation, but doesn't make an attempt to move at all. Janus can only picture his exhaustion after being edged for a prolonged amount of time. Longer than Janus has edged him in the past, anyway. Janus rubs over Roman's knuckles and up his forearm, and stays giving him gentle love until Roman's able to be guided into sitting up. He gives Roman encouraging praise for doing that, and even helps him stand after. 

A bath will be nice for both of them, especially in their big jacuzzi tub. And Roman can't help but admit it feels nice for him to hold Janus for a change as they cuddle in the warm water, both of them taking the time to relax beneath the bubbles and recoup their energy after a very eventful day. 

Though it's only a matter of time before Janus wants to revisit the app, and Roman will be more than happy to indulge him once he does. 

Chapter Text

Logan's fingers hurt from how hard he's clacking them against his overworked keyboard. His computer is hot to the touch, and he can hear the fans whirring in an attempt to cool itself down, and yet he never slows. 

He knows he needs a break. It's been an hour straight with not even a glance away from his screen. Maybe two. Maybe three. 

Logan glances at the corner of his desktop, intending to just glance at the time and get right back to working, but metaphorically short-circuits when he sees just how long it's been. 

Five hours? No break? No food or water? 

At the reminder, his stomach grumbles, but Logan just huffs and chooses to ignore it. Five hours, and he still hasn't finished this stupid document. He was sure it just needed a little more tweaking - the smallest bit of fine-tuning - and then it'd be finished. It'd be done. 

Schedules were his specialty, and deadlines were his special interest, and surely he could stay on task enough to finish this up! No more distractions - hunger cramps, dry mouth, none of it - and he could do it. But unfortunately, it seems his body didn't agree with his mind, as after Logan struggles to type some more, he realizes he's overheating. 

At first, he thinks it's just his room. He's been working so hard that it wouldn't be absurd to think it's been slowly getting hotter, but when he stands up to turn on a fan, he feels his cock rub uncomfortably against his jeans. And when he looks down, he realizes he's gotten hard. 

"Damnit," Logan mutters, as he curses out this fluke for being yet another distraction. This added nuisance only adds to the tension in his body, as his stress makes him physically ache. 

He's tempted to take a cold shower, but he quickly decides against that. A cold shower would take way too long, and that's time that could be spent working! So what would an easier solution be? Well... getting off, of course. 

Logan glances at the time. 

It's late... and though Logan knows Janus might be a bit peeved if he finds out Logan's gotten off without him (he always wanted to be involved in Logan's sexual endeavors), Logan knows Janus would be more upset if Logan woke him up from a nice slumber. And frankly, Logan didn't want something long and drawn out! He just wanted to get off quickly, and get back to work. 

Logan stiffly sits himself back down in his chair and unzips his jeans - though he takes the time beforehand to save his work on his computer, just in case he does take too long and his screen times out - and pulls his cock out rather unceremoniously. He could get off quickly, and maybe get back to work. Hell... the more he thinks about it, the more he tries to convince himself that this is a good thing! Masturbating alleviates stress, after all. Getting off quickly might get him back into the working mood, all things considered!

Though, Logan still bitterly wonders why he can't just get hard at planned times - like when purposefully thinking about Janus shrugging out of his shirt, his scales being revealed and gleaming beneath their dim bedroom lights... or when thinking about every time Janus has guided Logan's head against his boxers and made Logan worship his cocks through the fabric... or-

Moaning loud enough to startle himself, Logan's quick to slap a hand over his mouth, pathetically embarrassed at how easily he was lost in thought. Daydreaming was supposed to be Roman's thing! He needs to stay on task. 

His hand curls around the base of his cock, and he strokes it slowly. He'd feel better with lube, but getting up to grab some would only waste more time. So he suffers through the discomfort until he starts to leak pre, and then uses that to slick his shaft until pumping it is smoother. 

He lets out a more refined whimper in an attempt to repress his pleasured noises, and watches as his screen darkens as it's neglected, unlike his own enjoyment. 

He needs to be fast, so he moves his wrist quicker, toes curling at the increased intensity as he tries and tries to come quick and get it done.

"Just be quick," Logan mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans forward, gasping in pleasure. "Be quick, and get it over with." 

"That's no fun, though," a voice suddenly quips from Logan's doorway. Logan squeezes his cock in surprise, drawing intense, painful pleasure from his shaft which has him crying out, and once again muffling his mouth with his palm soon after. 

Meekly, Logan turns a little in his desk chair, and flushes dark when he sees Janus has already traversed most of his room, reaching Logan's seat shortly after. Janus is smiling knowingly. 

"Lying by omission is still lying, you know," he comments, as Janus uses his fingers to tilt Logan's chin upwards, forcing eye contact. As Logan's hand stills on his cock, Janus uses his free hand to grab Logan's wrists, and swiftly lifts both Logan's arms above his head, eliciting a whine from Logan's mouth. "And I don't like the implication you'd keep such a pretty display from me. What happened to seeking me out whenever you desired sex? Have I been unsatisfactory lately? 

"Not at all," Logan stammers, his cock twitching at Janus's words. "I assumed you'd be asleep by now." 

"Ah, I see. It is bedtime, isn't it? Well, in that case, why are you still up? And more pressingly, why is your computer still open?" Janus glances at the screen, and though very clearly seeing a word document open - cursor still blinking and everything - he asks "watching porn, or something?" 

"No!" Logan immediately insists, before shuffling out of Janus's grip, and nearly falling out of his chair in the process as he stands, cock still out. "No, not at all. I was... I am working." 

Janus snickers. "You sure look like you're working." 

Logan shamefully hides his cock behind his hands, but tries to preserve his dignity by explaining "it's just a fluke. I... I was gonna get rid of it quick so I could finish up my document. There was no reason to burden you with such an infinitesimal task." 

"Doll, your pleasure is hardly infinitesimal." Janus stalks towards Logan until Logan's backed up against his desk, making Logan gulp as Janus wraps Logan's tie around his palm. "I enjoy seizing every opportunity to please you... though in this case I think you're hardly deserving. Overworking yourself? Rushing through your own pleasure? Not telling me that you're needy? Oh, Logan. You know better than this!" 

Logan's head lowers a little, ashamed by Janus's words. 

"Besides, you're not telling the whole truth," Janus then adds, tugging Logan's tie until it's very lightly choking Logan's throat. "You weren't going to get off just to get rid of a fluke... you're stressed. You needed stress relief." 

Logan bites his lower lip, and then sighs and nods. Janus kisses the fabric of his tie, and then grabs Logan's hands, pulling them away from his leaking shaft. 

"Naughty boy." Janus clicks his tongue, glancing from Logan's flustered face to his twitching cock. "Depriving yourself of true pleasure and stress relief, and then lying to me about it. I shouldn't even help you after this mistreatment..." 

Janus takes a step back from Logan, but Logan just stumbles forward as Janus continues holding tight to his tie, until he's nearly falling over. 

"Wait," Logan starts, as Janus guides him to the edge of the bed. He clearly had no intent on leaving, but Logan still breathes out "please, help," as if Janus would ever abandon him at such a vulnerable moment. And yet Janus wordlessly bends him over the edge of the bed, with his bare cock grinding against the edge of his mattress and his clothed knees against the ground. Janus stands behind him.

"Oh, Logan," Janus murmurs, looking over Logan's obedient display. He keeps himself positioned the way Janus set him, even if it means he cant see Janus. "I could never resist helping you. But, you still tried to hide from me, love, and we just can't have that. If I let you get away with this little bit of secrecy, then you'll get the silly idea that you can hide other things from me! And we both know I'm far too nosy for that." 

Janus's hands slide up Logan's shirt, making Logan shiver, and then back down his pants, until Logan's jeans are being tugged to his knees. With his bare ass on display, Logan can't help but push his face into the comforter, eagerly anticipating whatever comes next. His work becomes an afterthought with Janus occupying the majority of his brain, and he hardly minds!

"I think you need a punishment. To truly cement it in your silly little mind that you should never act like this. No overworking, no keeping me out of any of your sexual endeavors, none of that." Janus runs his hand over Logan's ass, and then up his back, tracing Logan's spine with his pointer. "What do you think?" 

Logan bites the comforter in order to avoid answering, but this action hardly muffles the guilty whine he lets out. 

Janus tsks. "Come on, Logan, use your words. You're supposed to be smart, are you not?" 

"I do," Logan finally whispers.

"Louder." 

Logan presses his face so hard into the mattress that his glasses push uncomfortably against his face. But still, he groans out a muffled - but distinguishable - "yes!" 

Janus chuckles at the dramatic action - it was always nice to see Logan break away from his composed facade and devolve into the rather temperamental person he was in private - and pulls away so he's no longer close enough to touch Logan. 

 Trying fervently to sit still, Logan's tortured by the sounds of Janus's gloves being pulled off, fabric being jostled, and an unfamiliar item tapping teasingly against the ground. It all feeds directly into Logan's intense curiosity, but his obedience is quickly rewarded with pleasant praise from Janus, who, through the tone of his voice, clearly believed Logan would eventually succumb to his interest. 

"Look at you," Janus coos, as he steps closer to Logan, filling Logan with a surge of pleasurable expectation. He knows he's going to be punished, but how. "At least you're good at listening, hm? I'd be tempted to reward you if you hadn't already been so bad. Take a deep breath, darling. In... and out." 

As soon as Janus says out, Logan is yelping as a thin stick slaps against his ass, stinging both of his cheeks and causing tears to well up in his eyes. Unable to stifle his curiosity any further, he turns partially to see Janus leaning on his shepherd's crook. He's smiling knowingly as Logan flushes dark red. 

"Are you-" Logan's voice cracks, and he swallows the spit in his mouth in an attempt to steady himself. "Are you spanking me?" 

"Caning you," Janus clarifies, laughing softly as though Logan was a naive little thing. "Don't worry; I won't make you count. I don't have a number in mind, anyway. I'm just going to keep caning you until I feel you've learned your lesson." 

Logan muffles a moan, and pushes his face back into the mattress, trying to ignore his cock rutting against the side of the bed, where a wet patch has formed from his pre. 

He's sure he's not subtle at all as he rocks his hips best he can against the comforter, but if Janus notices it, he doesn't comment on it. 

Instead, Logan's left making soft, cute little noises as he waits impatiently for Janus to hit him again. And Janus truly draws it out, torturing Logan by not smacking him immediately, but not doing anything else either, solely observing the way Logan trembles slightly, occasionally switching his weight back and forth on his knees. 

And then he's hitting Logan again, making Logan cry out again, spit dribbling down his chin as he whimpers and moans at the hit, with the pain reverberating over his backside until it feels just as hot and pained as before. 

Before he can even recuperate from that, he's being hit again, making him moan as his hips stutter against the bed, with Logan desperately digging his fingers into the sheets, fighting hard to repress just how overwhelmingly hot he was. He's basically burning up! He tries to say Janus's name, but all that comes out is a slurred, stumbled mess. 

"Shh," Janus quells him, giddy at the sight of Logan shaking as he keeps himself bent over the bed. He goes to say something more as he reels his crook back again - perhaps punctuating his soft shush with a bit of teasing - but as soon as his cane connects with Logan's ass, Logan's moaning loudly, and Janus is watching as come spills from Logan's cock and over the side of the bed, making a mess over Logan's thighs and the floor, as well as soaking into the sheets. Logan rocks against the bed as he works through his orgasm, but eventually slumps over against the bed, full of embarrassment. 

"Sorry," Logan mumbles, barely audible. "I'm sorry. I really, honestly tried to hold back. I didn't even realize I was close- I wasn't... I couldn't..." 

Janus's hands are on Logan before he can try and fail to explain himself any further, and he's being guided onto his feet, and then back onto the bed, with Janus pulling Logan's jeans fully off. 

Logan's ass rubs against the comforter, making him hiss in pain, but Janus just shushes him by crawling between his legs and dragging his finger through the sticky mess coating Logan's legs. 

"Needy, needy," Janus chastises, before he kisses Logan's chest. "You're so pretty, Logan. You look much better spread out in bed than stiffly sitting in your silly little office chair." 

Logan stretches out further, and closes his thighs, before immediately cringing and deciding to keep them open as he doesn't want to smear the mess further. "I was almost done." 

"You're done for tonight," Janus insists, before smirking as he wraps his hand around Logan's limp cock. Immediately Logan's whining in oversensitivity as Janus strokes him without a care, until he's been once again worked back up to full hardness. 

"Janus," Logan gasps, and Janus pets through Logan's hair in response. 

"Let me milk that stress right out of you, dear," Janus says, though he's hardly giving Logan a choice. "You took your punishment so well! Maybe a little too well, even. Regardless, it won't hurt to tire you out a little more, and make sure you can't go back to work even if you tried." 

Logan turns his head to the side to partially hide it in the pillows, and Janus lets him, though still enjoys when Logan's muffled sounds of pleasure reach his ears. 

In just a few strokes, Logan's leaking pre over Janus's palm, earning a slightly judgmental, but mostly teasing complaint of "messy," followed by Janus sighing as he says "you're so sensitive. Is it because you deny yourself pleasure so often? Hm?" 

Logan doesn't answer, but his hips buck needily into Janus's fist. 

"You really shouldn't deprive yourself, darling. Doing so means you come pathetically fast... I mean, look at you; you're tearing up because you're so sensitive!" 

"Please," Logan whispers, as his eyes flicker towards his computer. The screen is dark and no doubt completely off by now. Logan's ass stings with a reminder of what he got from overworking. He whimpers, and then moans as Janus squeezes around the base of his cock. Already, he feels embarrassingly hot, and that fact is utterly humiliating. 

He can't even attempt to hide this sensitivity from Janus, who coos at him immediately "oh, honey, are you close already? Just a few minutes of touching and you're going to spill all over my hands? Well, don't keep me waiting, Logan. Go on." 

Being watched by Janus as he's brought to another orgasm has him flushed and moaning, but he's great at doing what he's told, and so does just that. Spurred on by Janus's pumping, Logan's brought to his limit and quickly pushed past it, whining as his second orgasm is practically squeezed out of his shaft in spurts. Janus is less than fond of the mess it makes, but works Logan through it anyway, until Logan's whining and gently nudging Janus away with his foot. 

"No more," Logan complains, and Janus doesn't hesitate in releasing Logan's cock and wiping the mess against the sheets. 

"Janus," Logan scolds, which has Janus huffing and grabbing Logan's jeans from the floor, using that to clean Logan up instead. Logan still frowns, but he doesn't voice any more complaints, so Janus keeps going until Logan's satisfied with the lack of mess, and then tosses the fabric back to the ground. 

When Logan goes to sit up, Janus just pushes him back down, and plucks the frames from his face. "Whatever you're planning to do can wait for tomorrow," Janus says, as he pulls Logan's blankets down, and then back over them both, making Logan roll his eyes. 

"You're still fully clothed," he mumbles, but Janus doesn't care, instead dramatically laying on top of Logan's pudgy body in order to cuddle. 

And though this isn't how Logan wanted the night to go, he can't say he's upset with how it turned out, and very slowly wraps his arms around Janus's body to hold him in turn. And thanks to Janus, Logan is relaxed enough to melt into the mattress and slowly let himself drift off to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Virgil shifts in discomfort, prompting Roman to turn to him and frown. When Virgil notices the bitter look, he mumbles an apology, but Roman doesn't look away. 

"You keep squirming," Roman comments, almost judgmentally, though Virgil knows Roman well enough by this point to understand he's concerned. "I know my bed is not this uncomfortable, so what is?"

"It's nothing," Virgil tries to dismiss, though when Roman sits up - opposed to their former position of cuddling together, Virgil's eyes can't help but flicker towards Roman's white wings, which stretch out briefly, flap shortly (unintentionally knocking Virgil in the arm), and then tuck snugly against Roman's back. After being laid on for the majority of their snuggle session, Virgil understands the need to spread them and soothe the ache within them. But Virgil's own wings were folded beneath his hoodie - of which he loved too much to cut the appropriate slits in which would otherwise allow his wings to slip out. However, not allowing them to stretch was causing dull pain to reverberate in his bones. 

Roman sees Virgil look towards his wings, and then frowns as he reaches to tug at Virgil's hoodie sleeve. 

"If you took this off you'd probably feel a little better," Roman says, which has Virgil yanking his arm away and frowning. "Even if at least for a minute. Your wings need to stretch." 

"No they don't," Virgil lies, shrugging off Roman's worry. "I'm fine. Just needed to shift positions is all." 

"Your wings need to shift positions." 

Virgil rolls his eyes and glares at Roman, which causes Roman to pout softly, as he leans against Virgil needily, sliding one of his hands beneath Virgil's hoodie and rubbing it against Virgil's ribs. 

As his thumb presses against Virgil's side, Roman mumbles "I don't want you to be in any discomfort, Virgil. Just... just stretch them briefly, won't you? For me?" 

Virgil nearly cringes at Roman's words, and doesn't hesitate to shove Roman away, but Roman smiles at the noticeable flush decorating Virgil's cheeks and the way his hands play with his hoodie strings as he considers Roman's plea. 

Eventually though, Virgil pulls his hoodie off. He keeps it crumpled on the bed next to him, but gives himself the opportunity to finally let his wings splay. It does feel rather refreshing - especially since Virgil would only normally let his wings free at night before heading to bed. So a mid-day sprawl was incredibly soothing. 

He spreads them out fully, with Roman leaning forward so that Virgil's wings could stretch behind him, but is staring rather intensely at the dark feathers. 

As Virgil's wings briefly flap and shake, and then tuck against his back, Virgil realizes that Roman's still staring. It starts to make him nervous. 

"Sorry," he instinctively apologizes, as he goes to put his hoodie back on. Roman quickly stops him though, leaning to set his hand atop Virgil's as he shakes his head, but his brows are furrowed in thought as his gaze stays shifted towards Virgil's back. 

"Don't be sorry," Roman quickly dismisses, as he reaches for Virgil, before stopping just short of his shoulder. Glancing at Virgil's face, he sees that Virgil is staring at him in discomfort, and so Roman retracts his hand. "I should be apologizing. I don't mean to stare. Could I just..." Roman chews his inner cheek, choosing his words carefully, before restarting with "may I touch your wings?" 

Virgil flushes at the request - more so out of shame than fluster - but nods anyway. 

Roman gently takes one of Virgil's wings, and guides it out, shifting his position so he's sitting the opposite direction Virgil is facing. As Virgil's wing is spread, Roman frowns, and Virgil rubs his hands together anxiously at the sight. 

"Is... is something wrong?" he asks, but Roman quickly reaches over to squeeze Virgil's thigh in a soft bit of assurance. 

"No, no," Roman quells him, before sort of humming and going "well, kind of." 

Virgil doesn't like that answer, and shoots Roman an upset look, which has Roman huffing and going "well, something is wrong! I wasn't going to lie to you." Roman's fingers gently brush over Virgil's inner wing, over the rough feathers, and even feels one coming loose! He goes to grab and pluck it in order to ease Virgil out of the discomfort the stray is no doubt causing him, but Virgil's face goes bright pink as his wing quickly flaps to knock Roman's hand away, and tucks back against his spine instead. 

"Be careful," Virgil hisses, as Roman pouts at the retraction. "You can't just go around pulling feathers off my wings!" 

"They need preened!" Roman whines childishly, as he grabs at Virgil's shirt and places a few rapid-fire, uncoordinated kisses over his face as if trying to convince Virgil of his point. "I'm sure those stray feathers can't feel comfortable! Let me pluck them, darling, I promise you'll feel so much better." 

Virgil shoves Roman away with a huff. "They don't need preened," he mutters dejectedly, pulling his knees to his chest. 

Roman frowns, and turns away from Virgil to mess around in his nightstand. After a few moments, he pulls out an expensive looking brush, that he shows off to Virgil. 

"Grooming brush," Roman proudly explains, smiling wide. "The bristles are incredibly soft and designed for feathers." 

Virgil stares at the brush, and briefly thinks back on his time with Remus and Janus. He tries to remember if he ever saw them grooming their wings. Virgil stares at the brush, and then looks back at Roman. "Remus never brushed his wings." 

Roman frowns at the mention of his brother, but still explains "Remus's wings aren't feathered like yours and mine. They're just skin. I'm shocked he can even fly." Roman then pushes his beautiful golden brush into Virgil's hands, encouraging him to run his fingers over the soft white bristles, and Virgil is indeed shocked with how gentle they are against his flesh. "This brush is specifically made for wings like mine. It's able to ease loose feathers away from the wings, and smooth them out overall."

Virgil hands Roman his brush back, still looking a bit unsure. Roman takes it from him, but then kisses Virgil's head. 

"Trust me," Roman implores him. "You'll feel so much more comfortable with them brushed out. I'll be gentle, I promise."  

Virgil chews his inner cheek, looking admittedly doubtful... but he trusts Roman. And if Roman's wings looks so smooth and well-groomed, then surely he has a lot of experience in combing through the feathers. And honestly Virgil's wings have felt stiff and uncomfortable for days now, more so than usual.

So, slowly, Virgil slides down the bed a bit, and lets his wings spread. Seeing this as an invitation, Roman smiles and moves to be sitting behind Virgil. 

Fingers gliding gently against his feathers, Virgil shivers in anticipation as Roman merely pets over his wings for a moment, as if smoothing them out until they're spread just enough for him to have the most unhindered access. 

Immediately, Virgil can't help but sigh at the sensation of these disgruntled feathers - that have been irritating his wings so fervently - being removed tenderly by Roman's gentle hand.

"This can't be comfortable," Roman then continues, as Virgil looks towards the pile Roman's making as he sets the removed feathers aside. "I really wish she would have let me know about this sooner. You don't have to live in discomfort, Virgil."

As Roman's brush begins to swipe towards the latter half of his wingspan, Virgil's body starts to feel hot. His wings are rather sensitive, and even a cool breeze could send him shuttering - let alone the diligent bristles of a delicate brush, combing through him with such compassion. 

Virgil squirms a little, and causes the brush to press deeper into his wings, which has him abruptly covering his face. Roman retracts as soon as he notices.

"You are being careful," Virgil replies, though he sounds considerably muffled.

Virgil's silent for a moment, before he nervously peels his hands away from his cheeks. He sets his hands atop Roman's knuckles, and very gently guides Roman's fingers downwards, over his pudgy stomach, and then down between his thighs, where Roman's palm meets an unmistakable bulge. When Roman rubs it, Virgil has to stifle a soft moan, and they both end up red in the face.

"Did... did I do that?" Roman asks, which is a question that admittedly makes Virgil snicker.

"What did I do," Roman then asks, after a moment, which has Virgil chewing his bottom lip.

It doesn't take an expert to piece these things together, and Roman is instantly cooing at just how sensitive Virgil's wings are.

Virgil whines out Roman's name, almost as in a plea with him to stop teasing, which has Roman laughing and saying that he's just kidding.

Roman then pulls away from Virgil, his arms sliding past Virgil's waist, before he grabs his brush and continues his preening. Virgil can't help but flush darkly at how Roman just shamelessly neglects him after finding out he's hard, but he supposes that his wings are in desperate need of plucking and grooming, so he doesn't stop Roman regardless. Besides, he wasn't lying when he said the brush was what aroused him, because as it continues to slide through his feathers, he can't help but let little moans slip past his lips.

"Feel free to touch yourself while I preen," Roman says, surprisingly casual, though he's blushing just as much. "You shouldn't have to be neglected while I continuously stimulate you. I'd never deny you pleasure, Virgil, just like you should never deny yourself self-care." 

Virgil says something quiet about being embarrassed, but Roman can't really understand it. And despite his apparent embarrassment, Roman hears a zipper, and then glances over Virgil's shoulder to see he's pulled his cock out anyway, as if he's desperate to touch despite still habitually complaining about it. Roman can't help but laugh softly, and press his own thighs together to hide the fact Virgil's got him excited as well. 

More loose feathers are carefully preened from Virgil's wings as Virgil tries to touch himself in tandem to the movements of Roman's brushing. 

"There," Roman sighs, happy with his work, as he gives Virgil's wing a few loving strokes once it's been completely brushed out. "That one's done. Give it a flap for me, won't you?" 

Virgil does - his wing retracts, and then stretches out, and then flaps, scattering most of the loose feathers Roman had meticulously piled up on the bed. Virgil immediately frowns at the mess, while Roman chuckles again, mumbling an embarrassed "whoops." 

He moves his brush to the second wing, starting again from Virgil's back and brushing outwards, but says "that feels nice, doesn't it? I'm sure there's a noticeable difference." 

Virgil mumbles something in response, swiping his thumb over the slit of his cock and dragging his pre downwards, smearing it over the length of his shaft. He shivers again as Roman brushes over his wings, and suddenly jolts as Roman plucks another disorganized feather from his back. 

"Roman!" he squeals, before shoving a hand over his mouth. He hears Roman sharply breathe in behind him, but Roman doesn't say anything, and instead brushes over the spot he just pulled a feather from. Virgil squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment, and the hand around his cock squeezes as well, as Roman continues grooming him. 

Each brush of Roman's bristles has Virgil gasping or moaning softly. It felt like Roman was caressing his inner thighs, over his ass, even rubbing over his front in terms of sensitivity. He feels so good that he's almost jealous he's never given his wings the time of day before! And Roman seems overly aware of the power he has, as he spends a lot longer on this wing than he did on the last, combing over the same spot repeatedly until the feathers and skin of Virgil's wings are so soft that he's forced to move on. 

Roman's taking such gentle, tender care of Virgil. He's being careful and attentive, and his hands are so skilled at preening and plucking. 

His brush is indeed soft, but when Roman takes the time to card through Virgil's feathers with his own fingers, Virgil almost comes right then and there.

"Roman," Virgil moans, taking in a stuttering breath. "Roman, please." 

"I can't go any faster, Virgil," Roman muses in response, as he uses his hands to gentle comb through Virgil's feathers, teasingly pressing the pads of his fingers into the skin of Virgil's wings. He swears he can feel Virgil's rapid heartbeat through beneath the feathers, and rubs smoothly against thin skin there. "You wouldn't want me to accidently miss anything, after all." 

Roman's finger dips into a certain spot, nestling beneath an unruly feather, and as he begins to ease it out, Virgil suddenly cries out. 

"Fuck, there!" he pleads, stroking his cock vigorously. "Keep rubbing there!" 

Roman does. With a flush on his face, he lightly drags his nails along that exact spot, pushing and pressing into it, rubbing against it and continuing to ease the loose feather more and more out of place. And just as Roman's soft scratching fully works the feather from Virgil's wing, Virgil's flooded with relief, both from the itching, annoying feather falling away from his body, and from him finally letting go, and letting himself stroke his cock through a quick and relaxed orgasm. 

He makes a mess of his pants, and Roman's bed, but he keeps pumping his shaft until he's satisfied, and then lets his head fall back as he pants, meeting Roman's eyes. Roman was watching him through it, but quickly turns his head in embarrassment when Virgil meets his eyes. 

Virgil's heavy breathing fills the room, until Roman resumes his preening, using his actual handheld brush this time as he works on the end of Virgil's wings, making Virgil whine softly. 

"Roman," he weakly protests, but Roman just hushes him with a dramatic "shh." 

"It's not my fault you finished before I did," Roman pouts, though he's only teasing. "I'm almost done, alright? Just a little bit more, and your feathers will be as soft as a baby fledglings." 

Grumbling something bitterly, Virgil huffs, but doesn't push Roman away, and instead lets Roman finish up his grooming. However, with the bristles lightly scratching through his feathers and the constant petting from Roman's hand, Virgil is embarrassingly worked back up again. So much so, that when Roman's done, Virgil lets out a soft whine of protest. 

"Why are you upset?" Roman pokes him, grinning like a dope as he rubs his hand through Virgil's wings a final time. When he deems them preened to perfection, he puts his brush away. "You should be feeling a lot better now." 

But when he moves to wrap his arms around Virgil's waist once more, his knuckles bump against Virgil's cock, which is fully stiff, and very messy. 

Virgil feels the heat radiating from Roman's face, but with it resting on his shoulder, he can't gauge Roman's countenance. 

Instinctively, Virgil mutters "sorry," but then Roman's wrapping his fingers around Virgil's shaft, and stroking it slowly and carefully, giving Virgil's cock his full and intense attention. And when Virgil moans, and asked through bated breath what Roman's doing, he just gets kissed on the side of the head in response. 

"Consider it a 'thank you,'" Roman explains, cheerily. "For letting me brush through your wings." 

"But that was already-" Virgil pauses to moan in overstimulation, and then swallows a follow-up whine, struggling for a minute to recompose himself. "Preening me was already a gift. You didn't have to do this as well." 

Roman shrugs. "Well, I like taking care of you. In all ways." He squeezes firmly around the base of Virgil's cock, and drags his tightened hand upwards, as if milking the pre from Virgil's slit. "If this is making you feel good, then I want to help you feel great." 

Virgil presses the back of his hand to his mouth as he whimpers, rocking his hips into Roman's touch. Roman praises him under his breath, rubbing and pumping Virgil's length until every breath Virgil takes is an unexpected gasp or a shuddering inhale. 

And truly, Virgil does feel good. His wings are no longer stiff and uncomfortable. He no longer has to deal with itchy feathers poking into his skin that need to fall out and won't. 

Roman plucked away all his problems, and is now taking care of Virgil's final one as though it was no burden at all! 

"Roman," Virgil moans, and this time Virgil hears Roman moan back. A wordless, sheerly instinctual moan. And that's when Virgil realizes Roman's touching himself behind him. Briefly, Virgil wishes he was turned around to see, but he likes the comforting hold Roman has on him. The hand around his waist, reaching past his side to stroke him quick and lovingly. While Roman's other hand occasionally brushed Virgil's back, it was mostly used to touch his own cock, getting off alongside Virgil. 

"I'd brush your wings every day if you'd let me," Roman pants, even though they both know that'd be excessive. "I'd have you in this position, and I'd even get you off after if you so desired." 

Virgil's face is bright red. Sweat rolls down his cheeks. 

Roman leans closer to him, pressing his chest against Virgil's wings, making Virgil gasp. 

"Let me," Roman breathes, barely above a whisper. Virgil doesn't even know what he's asking, but answers anyway. 

"Please." 

Roman lets out a soft moan. "Virgil." 

"Please." 

Roman kisses Virgil's shoulder, up his neck, beneath his earlobe - anywhere Roman can kiss, he does, and with Roman's front against his back, lips against his neck, and hand around his cock, Virgil comes, a spluttering orgasm being milked out of him with loving ease. Perhaps having already came only aided Roman's pursuit, but Roman seems satisfied nonetheless. 

Roman touches Virgil through his orgasm, before pulling away to finish getting himself off, and coming much less ceremoniously over Virgil's back and the bedding. When Virgil huffs out a few bad words for Roman getting his shirt dirty, Roman just laughs and says Virgil should consider himself lucky it wasn't his jacket. 

"It did get on your wings a little, though," Roman mumbles, making Virgil flush and turn to glare at Roman over his shoulder. 

"Damnit, Roman," Virgil huffs, "now I'm going to have to struggle to wash that out." 

But Roman just smiles cheekily, and slides off his bed, pulling Virgil up as well. "Or," he starts, already bringing Virgil towards his bathroom, "we could shower together, and you could let me give your wings a proper washing. It'll be good for them, I swear! And I even have a shower brush to really help scrub the soap in!" 

Virgil knows what Roman is implying, and flushes dark, but rolls his eyes and sighs regardless. "Fine, whatever," he mumbles, but picks up his step a little, already moving to undress completely and let Roman tend to him further. 

Chapter Text

"Damn it!" King curses, as he spits out a mixture of ink and salvia from his black-stained lips. "Stupid pen!" 

"Blaming the pen and not your horrid oral fixation?" Deceit muses in response, lounging on King's bed and delighting in King's despair as the latter hunches over his desk. "How totally unexpected." 

"Shut it," King hisses, as he glares over his shoulder at Deceit, ripping a handkerchief from his pocket and rather daintily dabbing at his face. "If you're just going to lay there and mock then I'll have the guards escort you out. I should have never let you into my palace anyway." 

Deceit grins at him. "Arrogant King. Maybe if you talked to your pens the way you talked to me they'd be less likely to explode." 

"Quit being ridiculous." 

"Quit biting your utensils in half." 

 King groans and slams his hands down on his unfinished manuscript as he pushes himself to his feet. Though he doesn't step towards Deceit, he does fully turn to him. The ink has been cleaned from his face, but he grips the now-dirtied rag tightly in his hand. "Quit pestering me!" King huffs, despairingly throwing the handkerchief Deceit's way. "If you want to make yourself useful, you can go fetch me another pen. You're unwanted otherwise." 

Deceit doesn't budge, and instead kicks his feet up with utter sass, making King's eye twitch. "I don't 'fetch,'" Deceit smugly replies. "Unlike you, I'm not a bitch." 

Deceit watches with sheer glee as King rages at the comment, putting his fist into the wall over and over until a massive hole has formed, and continues to punch through the structure after, until his fist no longer collides with anything but air. As he pants, clenching his fist and feeling it sting, he feels Deceit slither up behind him. 

Wrapping his arms around King's waist, Deceit looks up at King with softer, albeit assured eyes. 

"Feel better?" Deceit asks, though he already knows the answer. "I knew a little break would help calm you down." 

King frowns down at him, crossing his arms over his chest, as Deceit's smaller body stays cuddled around his waist. "I don't appreciate your methods of getting me to take one," he curtly replies, and grimaces when he sees the shards of wall nestled deep in his skin. With a quick gulp and an uneasy wave of his other hand, the damage is promptly undone, but King's bitterness lingers. Another flick of his wrist has his wall being patched up shortly after. "You're cunning, after all. Surely there's a less destructive way to manipulate me into taking a short pause." 

"Less destructive methods would require a less destructive person." 

Deceit circles King's body, until he's standing before him. He leans up on his tiptoes, and despite still grumbling, King bends down to give him a brief kiss. 

"I could have ruined my papers," King mutters, against Deceit's lips. 

Deceit merely shushes him. "You didn't, though. Just ruined your hand, and your wall, and both of those things are easily fixed, so who cares if they were broken in the first place?" 

King looks unconvinced, so Deceit reaches over and plucks up King's broken pen, being careful not to touch any of the spilled ink. He rolls it between his fingers. 

"Kind of like this pen," Deceit starts. "Pressure is being pushed down onto you, and sometimes you need it in order to burst! And that small explosion relieves you immediately of most stress, making you feel better and calmer. Doesn't it?" 

Deceit guides King to the edge of his bed, and King sits on it. With a sigh, King asks "but isn't there a way to stop the pressure without exploding?" 

Suddenly looking a bit unsure, Deceit hesitates. His fingers press together nervously, and as King observes him, he realizes that Deceit looks rather young. And so, he sighs, and quickly responds "nevermind. I shouldn't expect you to have things completely figured out yet. I can't even figure out this stupid,  idiotic manuscript." 

Sullied by King's grief, Deceit is quick to slide between his legs. "Don't say that," he murmurs, as he takes King's chin into his hands. "You just need to step away from it for a bit." 

"I don't want to step away from it. I want to get it done." 

"Alright. Then we'll get it done." 

King scoffs at those words, and stands once more. "We won't be doing anything. You've hardly helped as is; I don't need you encouraging me to break anymore walls for your amusement." 

Pursing his lips, Deceit crosses his hands over his chest. He watches King sink back into his desk chair, before one of his eyebrows shoots up with an idea, and he promptly responds "then how about I let you even the field by having me do something for your amusement." 

And when King stares at him, a look of disbelief on his face, Deceit just grins and adds a sweet "my king," as to further entice him. 

King regards him hesitantly, before he chews on his bottom lip. "What could you do that could possibly keep me entertained." 

"You're creativity, aren't you? Use your imagination." 

King scoffs, but does as Deceit says anyway. He hums as he looks over his work station, eyes darting around as he searches for a source of inspiration. Typical rough sex would be far too basic and boring for him right now; he needs something a lot more unique. Something only he - the one and only King Creativity - would be able to both think of and do. His gaze settles on his manuscript, and then on the small puddle of ink slowly drying into his desk. Slowly, King begins to smile. 

"I have an idea," he proclaims, though he waits for Deceit to show interest, which Deceit quickly does. 

"Oh? And what wonderful idea does my dearest King possess?" 

King swivels in his chair, and pats his large thighs, calling Deceit over. Deceit shamelessly moves towards him, and lets King grab his waist and pull him up into his lap. Deceit straddles one of King's thighs, expecting something intimate or sweet. But King just slides his hands over Deceit's sides, rubbing him in a rather strange manner. Just up and down. 

Deceit lets out an awkward laugh. "What are you doing?" he asks, as his hands settle on King's chest. His body feels... weirdly hot. "Is this some sort of new sex thing you came up with?" 

"Something like that," King responds, not even trying to hide his grin. 

Deceit goes to ask what exactly this "sex thing" is, but before he can he watches as his hands slide down King's chest. It confuses him greatly, as he's not moving them, but after just a few seconds, they're not touching King at all, as if they're too short to reach more than a few inches in front of him. And then King's hands are moving from his sides to his arms, rubbing over those as well until Deceit feels they're fused at his sides, and then feels like they're not there at all! He can't move them, he can't even feel them, and King is growing bigger and bigger in his vision until King's entire hand envelops a majority of his own body. 

Though, it barely feels like a body anymore. Any limb Deceit tries to move simply doesn't exist, and when he tries to speak, that doesn't work either. 

He watches King's thumb raise above him, and then press against him, rolling his new form against his palm. It feels... strangely erotic. 

"I bet you're wondering what you are," King muses, as he strokes Deceit's new form, making Deceit moan internally. Deceit is expertly flicked between King's fingers, over his knuckles, spun like he's light and small, and it makes him feel a dizzying rush of arousal. "Well, since you wanted to embarrass me by emphasizing my broken pen and undermine my genuine distress over the spillage, I figured you'd be just as willing to replace what was shattered." King spins Deceit very quickly between his fingers now, as if taunting him with just how insignificant he is. 

"And if you still don't understand," King adds, with a grin, "which you probably don't, considering just how underdeveloped your imagination is compared to mine, let me spell it out for you. I've turned you into a brand new pen." 

Deceit is left figuratively breathless as King raises him towards his mouth, and lets out a surprised cry when he feels King's teeth press into him, and then an orgasmic rush of pleasure when part of his body is pulled away. 

He feels like he's being split in two in the best possible way as King holds his thin, pen body in front of his face, letting Deceit see as King holds a cheap, black pen cap between his teeth. When he bites down on it, Deceit feels pleasure rush through him in a sudden wave, as well as intense pressure that squeezes around that part of his body. It's a weird feeling to be two parts, but Deceit finds he doesn't mind too much. 

"And don't worry," King continues, as he runs his thumb pad over Deceit's tip, which gives Deceit an overwhelmingly pleasant sensation. He's able to see as black ink rubs over King's flesh, which makes him feel strangely... proud. "If I just made you a normal, boring pen then that'd be no fun. So, I've amplified your senses. Overwhelmed your nerves. Every little movement against your plastic body will feel amazing, and every time you're used - until you're used up - you'll feel immense relief and a mind-bending bliss. And once you're empty... well, I actually don't know what'll happen. Maybe it'll feel even better." With a smug look, King states "I am incredibly generous, after all." 

With a shrug, King finishes with "and if you hate it, and want to turn back, you will. It's a mental thing, I guess. Though I'm hoping you appreciate the work I've put into crafting you a new, useful body." 

Then King pulls Deceit's cap fully into his mouth, swishing it back and forth happily before pushing it with his tongue until it's firmly grasped between his molars. 

Meanwhile, King spins Deceit around, pressing his inky tip against his manuscript, dotting a period to end his last sentence before thinking for a moment. He leaves Deceit reeling with temporary anticipation as he pretends to ponder about what he'll write next, and then begins his scribbling. 

It's a weird feeling for Deceit - incredibly so, considering the sudden and shocking circumstances - but it is in no way unwelcome. 

It feels strange being slowly but continuously drained of something. It's like his literal brain is coming out the tip of the pen, and as his face scratches against the paper, he's filled with mounds of pleasure. He'd be moaning and writhing if he could moan and writhe, but instead he remains prettily pinched between King's strong fingers. 

"The king works all night to please his people," King mutters as he writes, as the vibrations from his voice stimulate Deceit's body through the chewed-up cap, "and overtime he realizes he's a slave to their desires as opposed to a leader to be looked up to." 

His mumbling - while typically endearing - was now overly erotic, as it is just another thing working to rub and overwhelm his senses. He can feel King's hot breath on him, his moist spit smearing over his crushed form, feel King's tongue and be pleasured by it all the while. Simultaneously he's masticated, chewed and crushed repeatedly by King's sharp canines and pearly white molars, leaving imperfections in his cheap, plastic body. King bites down particularly hard as he writes, and Deceit feels the cap - that part of his body - snap in half. 

He internally cries in pleasure at the sudden breakage, which feels like an orgasmic release of pressure that's built inside of him. But it's only temporary, and nowhere near as relieving as a typical orgasm would be. No, after just a few moments, it feels less pleasurable and more like his consciousness has now been split between three items, as opposed to two. And Deceit is back to feeling incredibly teased and excited by King's mouth. Double the pleasure. Triple the pleasure. And no proper release in sight. It's torture. Wonderful, tantalizing, erotic torture. 

King hums when he's not murmuring along with his writing, continuously sending buzzing vibrations through Deceit alongside the constant chewing. Whenever King pauses to think, he brings the back of Deceit's body to his mouth and bites down on the plastic incasing Deceit's ink. A few times he bites down so hard Deceit worries he might burst, but with how good each clench of King's jaw feels, Deceit finds he wouldn't quite mind it. 

After all, the ink spilling from his tip feels heavenly. Each scratch against the paper pulls more of his mind away from his body, feeling like semen literally being pulled from his cock. He feels good and useful, but he can't properly come. It feels overstimulating, but never properly relieving. 

After a few moments, Deceit feels part of his cap dig particularly hard into King's tongue, which is promptly followed by King spitting the shattered cap onto his desk. 

This immediately causes a cry from Deceit as his longer pen body is set atop the stack of papers he was scribbling against moments before, depriving him from pleasure altogether. 

Please, Deceit internally begs, though King is oblivious to his pleas. Put me back in your mouth, please!

If he had the ability to think outside of intense pleasure, he'd probably be humiliated in himself for the way he was behaving, but half of his brain had been used up completely, leaving him half full and fully horny. 

He watches as King gives him a look of frustration, but it disappears quickly as King's thumb descends towards his cap, and rubs against the broken pieces, filling Deceit with a new feeling as he feels his plastic parts be fused slowly back together. It's strange feeling two different parts of your body rejoin into one - the same way it was weird to feel his whole body be split into two - but he doesn't mind it. With gentle rubbing, King uses a bit of imagination-magic to smooth out the bite marks and rough edges until Deceit's cap is perfectly reformed. He rubs a bit longer with a knowing look in his eye, making Deceit moan, until eventually he plucks the cap up and tosses it back into his mouth to repeat the process of chewing and crushing the plastic all over again. 

Then, he gets right back to work. 

"You know," King speaks, as he pushes the cap to his cheek where Deceit is pushed on from nearly every angle, "you write better than most other pens I've conjured up, which is a surprise considering I purposefully made you so cheap." 

King finishes off this next sentence with a question mark, before he rolls Deceit between his fingers again. 

"I wanted something that would drain ink quick... something that would leave you brainless and helpless. Do you feel that way, my love?" 

Deceit tries to answer - tries to affirm King's suspicions - but he can't. He can only shiver and whine as King squeezes his palm around his plastic casing, threatening to break Deceit open and splatter his ink all over his fingers. 

King smiles at him. "I hope you do. It really is entertaining to imagine just how intense you're feeling. I am truly so kind to you, letting you feel so good without having to work for it, even after you've been nothing but a brat to me all morning. Maybe after I use you up I'll leave you like this for a bit longer as a... decoration, perhaps... or maybe I'll toss you in the trash, where empty pens belong. Who knows?" 

Spinning Deceit between his fingers, King's sweet smile suddenly stretches into a rather sadistic grin. "Or," he starts, glancing at his manuscript. He'd reached a pretty satisfactory stopping place. "I could just break you. Force the rest of your thoughts right out of your head and leave you shattered." 

He brings his teeth down hard on the plastic cap in his mouth, making Deceit cry in arousal. His molars crash hard against the object, deforming and crushing it until it's once again split into pieces, overwhelming Deceit with splitting, piercing pleasure. 

King then spits the plastic carelessly onto the ground, and holds Deceit's pen body in his palm, squeezing his fat fingers around it until suddenly it's breaking to pieces in his grip. Deceit is so overwhelmed by the intensity and the simultaneous release of ink that he barely even realizes a majority of the black substance had stained King's hand. And though his outer casing is tossed to the ground, Deceit gets to watch as the ink is smeared between King's fingers, feeling as his mind is rubbed and warped across his skin as King's clean hand undoes his pants, pulling them down just enough to pull out his large cock. 

And then Deceit's left to moan as King begins working his hand over his shaft, rubbing the inky mess into his length and using it as lubricant to properly please himself. 

It's another thing for Deceit's consciousness to be spread between. The broken pen cap, the shattered pen, and now the ink, all him and all feeling and all of it was overwhelmingly good. He can taste King's cock as if it's intruding into his very being as his inky self soaks into his skin. And Deceit is so needy. Incredibly so, right on the brink of the most intense orgasm he's ever experienced, and yet unable to reach release. Need permeates his body. Desperation exists in every broken bit of plastic. And yet he is incapable of seizing that inevitable bliss any sooner than King wills it so. 

 And then, King's flicking his hand, and Deceit's shattered body begins to tremble, and the broken pieces are pulled towards each other. He's slowly reformed as a pen, and then slowly begins to shift and transform back into a person, until he's a trembling mess of flesh and blood kneeling before King. Though, the ink stays drenching King's cock. 

King, still touching himself, simply says "strip," nodding towards Deceit's body which is still dressed in his conservative clothing. 

With teary eyes and shaking hands, Deceit immediately moves to do what he's told. He lets out an overstimulated cry when his shirt rubs over his nipples, and even feeling the fabric press against his scales tortures him. 

He gets his pants off, though he's clumsy while doing so, but while trying to get his boxers off the waistband presses against his cocks, and Deceit's overwhelmed body is coming before he can even think to hold back. His head falls back in a moan as tears pour from his eyes. His flush spreads from his cheeks down his chest, and his hips buck upwards sloppily until he's made a mess of his boxers, which are barely halfway down his thighs. 

"I'm..." Deceit starts, but his voice sounds distant, and he can think enough to properly formulate a sentence. He stammers, struggling to articulate his thoughts (of which there aren't many), before he looks towards King pleadingly. 

And King laughs. "Oh... wow, aren't you cute? Did it feel that good?" 

"King- King- I-" 

"Shh." King strokes his cock slow, and watches as Deceit's gaze is seized by the drops of pre dripping from the slit of King's shaft. Once it splatters against the ground, his head raises again, only for his attention to be caught by the movement once more. "It makes sense you're struggling to talk, my love. Probably finding it hard to think, too. But that has an easy explanation!" 

King switches hands on his length, and lowers his dirty, black-stained hand to Deceit's face in order to make sure he follows it back to his shaft, which he runs his finger over. "After all, look where your brain is!" 

And Deceit does. With a teary face, he stares dizzily at King's ink-covered cock. 

"Do you want to think again, my sweet? Get your mind back?" King pats his thigh, to encourage Deceit to come closer. "Then come suck." 

Deceit licks his lips. "Tox... toxic...?" 

King chuckles at him. "It's only as toxic as you are, my dear. No need to worry, anyway. If you get poisoned, you'll be fine by sunrise. Now, come do as your King tells you." 

Shuffling forward on his knees, Deceit rocks back and forth until his chin is grabbed by King's big hand. One of his tears are rubbed against his cheek, and then brought to King's mouth for him to taste. "I love it when you cry, Deceit. Only I get to see it. Did I make you feel good? Did I make you feel?" 

Deceit moans in affirmation as King's hand travels to the back of his hair, guiding his mouth to the tip of King's cock. His salty pre and the chemicals from the ink mix together in a rather disgusting fashion, but Deceit does as he's told anyway. He lets his jaw go slack as King's girthy cock fills his throat completely. His forked tongue can barely move across the bitter surface, but he tries anyway. His eyes are wet and half-lidded, and yet he keeps eye contact with King because his King is staring back at him. 

His body shakes. He's hot. He's overwhelmed and still partially feels like he's not completely back together, but in King's grip he's assured he will eventually be so. 

As he swallows down his first mouthful of sweat, ink, and precome, he feels his head throb in a surprisingly pleasant manner. A singular thought of 'it's so hot' bounces around his skull, and he shifts his weight back and forth between his knees as heat seems to infect him. His body is so torturously sensitive, and even his come-covered thighs rubbing together was getting him close again. 

Another gulp and he can think a little more, which finally allows him to process the situation on a surface level. 

He was a person, and then a pen, and now a person again. He's sucking his own brain off of King's cock, except it's ink. His head throbs again when he tries to think too hard about it, and King pushes his head further down. 

Deceit doesn't gag, but more tears dress his flushed face, much to King's delight. With each guided bob of his head, the ink is smeared and smudged and slowly sucked off, until Deceit's lips and tongue are stained instead of King's own shaft. 

"I guess you were right about needing a break," King groans, relaxing in his chair as Deceit's mouth pleases him. "This is wonderful!" 

Deceit struggles to swallow and chokes as a particularly large glob of pre fills his throat. It tastes better with less chemicals coating it, but still nothing entirely pleasant. King is pleased though, and that pleases Deceit in turn. 

"I bet you're enjoying yourself, too. Aren't you going to thank me for giving you such a good time?" 

Deceit makes a face, but in turn his head is shoved down far, which earns a strained moan from his gurgling throat. Pleadingly, he looks up at King, who pulls Deceit back by his hair and gives him the chance to gasp and cough. He splutters, with dark spit dripping from his lips, but he knows King is staring at him expectingly. And so, he mumbles "thank you, King." 

King grins at him, and pushes Deceit's face back to the tip of his cock, graciously allowing him to solely focus on King's leaking slit until King himself is making beautiful noises. As Deceit's tongue pleases him, King lets himself enjoy the feeling of being worshipped. He deserves it after Deceit's earlier antics, and he supposes Deceit did an adequate job as King's pen, despite the fact that more of Deceit's ink ended up on his cock rather than his manuscript. 

"I should have you help me more often," King murmurs, as his big hand scratches through Deceit's hair in wordless encouragement, occasionally pushing his head down just to hear his strained noises and see his teary face before pulling him back again. "Not as a person, but perhaps as a pillow for comfort, or a snack to keep me motivated. How does that sound?" 

Deceit shivers, and moans again, humping his thighs without really thinking. 

King snickers and softly regards Deceit with a rather gentle expression. "I'll keep that in mind," he replies, though eventually his head falls back as he bites back a closed-mouth groan. 

He's clearly nearing his own orgasm, and he encourages Deceit's head to go down further and further down as his climax builds and builds, until finally he comes without warning, moaning against the back of his hand as he holds Deceit's mouth down and fills his throat with a sudden rush of semen. 

Deceit gags, and cries again, but leans forward into King's release, and swallows down mouthful after mouthful of the salty come, until finally King lets him pull away. However, he's only given a minute to catch his breath while King tucks himself back into his pants, and moments later King is bending down and pulling Deceit into his lap once more. 

"Good job," King praises him, though he grimaces as he thumbs away some of his own orgasm from Deceit's lips. "A little messy to finish things off, but I suppose I can't expect you to be perfect, so I'll forgive it." 

"It's your mess," Deceit mutters in response, but his voice is breathy and whiny and so King doesn't take him seriously. 

Instead, King kisses his cheek, and says "thank you. For helping me write. Even if it probably wasn't what you had in mind, I have to admit that knowing I was using you encouraged me to get an entire page done, which was more than I achieved all morning! You were incredibly useful, my sweet." 

At King's words, Deceit whines, and rocks his hips slightly against King's big thighs. 

King glances down, and laughs outright when he sees Deceit's leaking cocks. 

"Worked up again?" King mocks him, looking rather proud of himself at the fact.

Though Deceit is annoyed by his cockiness, he swallows the spit in his mouth and responds "yes, my king. You're just so... so..." 

"Perfect? Generous? Wonderful?" King wraps his strong arm around Deceit's back to steady him, and shamelessly curls his hand around Deceit's cocks, enveloping them both with incredible ease. At the slightest touch, Deceit cries out, and bucks his hips into King's fingers. "I appreciate you're praises, my dearest, even if they go unspoken. I know you probably weren't able to lick up all your brain. Don't worry, it should all be there tomorrow." 

Whining at King's words, Deceit's overstimulated hips rock thrice more before he's coming again, quickly achieving and seizing his release, which he believes he more than deserves after his prolonged edge session. 

And King lets him, working him through his orgasm, before letting go of his cocks and wiping Deceit's small mess against Deceit's own thighs, emphasizing his disgust for it. 

But Deceit ignores the action and leans against King's chest anyway, which King allows him to do, rubbing Deceit's back as Deceit focuses on steadying his breathing. Though, after a moment, Deceit lets out a noise of complaint as he adjusts his position, before looking up at King and saying "your clothes are... they're... rubbing against me. I don't want it." 

King chuckles at him, and lifts him up. With surprising care, King lays Deceit in his comfortable, silk bed, and lets Deceit get tangled in the warm covers. He lets out a rather half-assed noise of thankfulness that King appreciates anyway, before sitting back at his desk to work some more. With Deceit resting, he at least won't be interrupted for an hour or so... and if Deceit tries to encourage another break once he wakes up, then King will just have to get even more creative, which is fine by him. 

Chapter Text

"Logic, my dear," King groans, as he leans over the back of Logic's office chair. Logic nearly tips backwards at the added weight, but if he's startled, he doesn't let it show. "Take a break! Let's go on a walk in the imagination... or perhaps lie down together for a movie! My bed is comfortable, and my television is high-quality... doesn't that sound enticing?" 

Though a smile plays on Logic's lips, he merely responds "I can't right now, King. Thomas has work that needs tended to, and if I don't keep him focused, nobody else will." 

"You said that last night." King's hands slither down from Logic's chair to his body, and he hugs Logic so tight that he's temporarily immobilized. "And the night before. When will all the work be completed? When do you get to relax?" 

"Careful, King," Logic starts, "you're beginning to sound like Deceit." 

King's face twists up in disgust, and he pulls away in order to fully spin Logic around in his chair. Logic merely sighs once he's stopped before King's frowning countenance. 

"King, I appreciate your consideration over my workload, but I really need to get this done." 

King kneels onto the floor, so that he's face level with Logic. Unintentionally, he draws attention to their height difference, as even on his knees King's frame seems to cast a shadow over Logic's own. "My Logic," King begins, taking Logic's hands into his own. He brings them to his lips and kisses them over and over, with such passion that Logic can't help but flush and turn away. "Please at least honor me with a few hours of your precious time." King stares up at Logic with bright eyes, one a shimmering marron and the other glistening green. He's pleading with Logic in such a way that Logic can't help but feel breathless. His desperation is apparent, but after a moment he seems to get a proper idea of what they can do, and leans forward to kiss at Logic's stomach through his polo. "Please. I promise I will make it worth your while." 

Those words have Logic shivering, and he pulls his hands away from King's to fidget with his solid blue tie. "King..." he says, as if internally debating his choices, before finally he sighs and nods. "Alright. Though, I expect you to keep your promise." 

King seems delighted, and is quick to stand and grab Logic's waist, pulling him out of his chair in one swift, passionate movement. "I will. I will not only keep it, but exceed your expectations, amplify your experiences... I will love on you until you can no longer think about anything but my adoration for you, my Logic." 

Logic doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to. He's never been good at acknowledging King's frequent and explosive endearment - logic and feelings don't often mix - but he does appreciate them. And King knows he does, hence why he carries Logic out into the imagination, whispering soft praise into Logic's ear all the while. 

"I love you," King murmurs, kissing over the side of Logic's jaw. "You could never fathom just how intensely I crave you, every waking moment of every passing day. You've been spending too much time in your room, my dear. I've almost been tempted to drag you out of it and tie you up in my palace, making sure you could never leave and never stress about work again." 

"That wouldn't be such a good idea," Logic murmurs. "Morality would be unhappy if both of us went missing." 

"Morality wouldn't have to know." King pushes open the doors of his palace with the mere flick of his foot, and he carries Logic up to his throat. "I'd pretend not to know where you were, either. I'd help look for you, too. Perhaps blame your disappearance on those dastardly darks." King strides up to his massive throne, and settles passively in it, resting Logic on his lap. "All the while you'd be safely secured in my domain. One of my most treasured decorations... A beauty, even more so than the gold and marble adorning my castle." 

Logic gently sets one of his hands over King's mouth. "You don't have to try and flatter me. I let you bring me to the imagination, didn't I? I don't need any more convincing." 

"I can't help it," King mumbles, cupping the back of Logic's head and pulling him close. "You fill me with such a burning need that I just want to praise you forever." King kisses him, softly, but deeply, making Logic gasp against his lips. 

While one of King's hands cradles his head, the other slides down his back and eventually rubs at the bottom of his polo. King's large thumb circles his lower back, before eventually untucking Logic's shirt from his jeans and sliding it upwards. King's hand moves up his back, and then he very lightly trails his nails back down, causing Logic to moan in anticipation. 

"King," he then begins, eyes darting around the rather occupied throne room. "I'd prefer if your creations weren't... observing us." 

"They won't judge." 

Logic narrows his eyes. "That's the least of my worries. I just don't enjoy the feeling of so many eyes on me, especially when I'm trying to just... exist. With you." 

"Noted." King snaps his fingers, and all of the people around dissipate into nothingness, as if they were never there. The soft chatter that came from the crowds dies out with them, leaving the two sides in comfortable silence. "Any other requests, my beloved?" 

"Perhaps being somewhere more comfortable?" Logic glances around King at the golden throne they were sat upon. "I'm not sure how skillfully you could maneuver us whilst seated in such a royal manner. Not that I doubt your abilities, King, but if I understand your implications correctly..." Logic pauses, but after a pleased smile and wink from King confirming his suspicions, he continues "then I'd like to not risk knocking my head against a plated armrest or carved backing." 

King waves his hand in a large circle, and the room morphs to fit his whims. Whole hallways, walls, and roofs are rearranged until somehow they're sitting together on King's large bed. King holds him firmly for a few moments, and then lays him back against the malleable comforter, which seems to swallow Logic up. 

"Ah, Logic," King sighs, stroking Logic's jaw. "How often I fantasize about you in my bed... Such joy it brings me whenever you bless me with the sight." 

Logic says nothing, but he lets out a soft gasp as King's hand travels down his front, and King's fingers hook in the waistband of his pants. 

"Let me treat you," King pleads, as his hand slowly tugs down Logic's trousers. "Let me tend to you in such a way only I can. I'll make you feel so good, my Logic. I'll make you forget all about that dastardly work keeping you from me." 

"I'm not stopping you," Logic softly replies. 

King's leaning over him to kiss him shortly after, crushing Logic's body beneath his bigger one, pressing his stomach into Logic and overwhelming him with pressure that makes Logic happily groan. He leans upward into King's affection, which pleases King infinitely more than such a miniscule action should. King moans into Logic's mouth and Logic eagerly swallows his King's noises of pleasure, and lets himself be dropped back onto the mattress after, bouncing a bit on the sheets. 

"An irresistible thing, you are," King praises, while his hands work to strip himself of his cape, shirt, and pants. He's undressing quicker than Logic can even appreciate him, as his eyes are constantly flickering towards different parts of King's skin. "I'd call you a temptress, if you were one of those devious dark sides. I do however know I still would be unable to keep my hands to myself even if you were horrifically evil. You're just so... alluring." 

Logic wouldn't exactly use the sort of adjectives King is choosing, but he likes them quite a bit. While he would describe himself as "composed" and "intelligent," being referred to as "alluring" and "irresistible" made him feel a mixture of bashful and proud. 

As King pulls his boxers off, Logic's blessed with the sight of his already hard cock straining between his legs. 

Logic swallows the spit in his mouth as King works his pants off now. "Already?" he asks, voice shaking with anticipation. "I didn't realize just how... aroused you already were, King." 

"When I have you graciously lying beneath me, I'm shocked you'd expect anything but." 

Logic's pants are pulled from his body, and his shirt and tie follow suit, with King's hands lingering over his bare skin quite often. Logic has to remind him once or twice to stay focused, which nets him whiny apologies and plenty of kisses over his face and neck, until finally he's nude against King's mattress.

"So beautiful," King praises, as his lips trail over Logic's unfortunately pale neck. His tongue slides over the soft skin before he nips at it curiously. "But you should let me leave a few marks. I've heard purple and blue go great together."

"Go ahead," Logic consents, as he tilts his head to the side. King's palm rubs over his thighs, and spreads them apart as he leans over him. King's hairy gut rubs over his smaller stomach, and Logic can feel King's large cock pressing against his own shaft, making him gasp. 

King thanks Logic softly - which is something Logic cherishes, as he's one of the only sides graced with hearing King show gratitude for anything - and then he's lightly pressing his teeth against the side of Logic's throat. His teeth are sharp - even the light pressure feels like piercing pins waiting to fully stab into him, but Logic likes that quite a bit. King doesn't intend to hurt him, but he inevitably will, and Logic adores it. 

Finally, King bites down rough, and Logic's back arches up into King's body as he moans, feeling blood begin to gush out of the many punctured holes caused by King's canines. "King," he whimpers, and King groans in response, sucking hard over the mark before pulling away and licking over it. 

 "I was right," King breathes, as he pulls away and pushes his thumb against the dark hickey he's left. "Purple and blue do go well together." 

He bends back down to leave more marks over Logic's neck, with each hickey basically taking up a fourth of his throat due to King's large mouth, until King decides there's no more room left to bite and so moves further down. 

He bites and sucks at Logic's collarbones, leaving a plethora of hickeys that ache when King moves away, until his shoulders are covered in blood and marks as well. When he runs out of space there, he continues his descent, and his lips end up wrapped around one of Logic's nipples, causing Logic to cry out intensely in surprise. 

"King!" Logic moans, as King's coarse tongue rubs over his sensitive breast. "King, you're-" 

King sucks softly on Logic's sensitive bud, his teeth very lightly rubbing over it too. Logic whines at the intensity, one of his hands coming to rest on King's face. He doesn't even bother attempting to push King away - he wouldn't be able to even if he wanted to - but just keeps his hand tangled in King's long, brushed out hair.

In a sultry manner, King pulls away, locking eyes with Logic and delighting in the way Logic watches him pinch at his nipple with his teeth and pulls it upwards as well. Logic's hips jerk with need, rubbing his small cock against King's massive one, and they both moan in response.

"I adore how cutely sensitive you are," King coos. "It's always such a pleasure pleasing you." 

As King lifts himself up slightly, he's graced with the pretty sight of Logic's leaking cock, already spilling mass amounts of pre over Logic's own stomach.

"Are you already overwhelmed, my Logic? Already close?" 

"You just... you're..."

King kisses him, then repeats "are you close?" 

Meekly, Logic nods. "You have to understand, though-" he's quick to rush out, coming to his own embarrassed defense, "that I'm not a sexual being. I'm intended to be Logic. I'm Thomas's brain, not his... cock." 

"The brain is the biggest sex organ," King counters, and then bites at Logic's lip. "You're just so sensitive because you don't live your life to the fullest sexual potential. I could care for you, you know. I could make sure you feel so loved and pleasured, completely and entirely. I would make you feel emotionally amazing, and then physically fantastically." King kisses Logic hard. "I'd take you on mentally stimulating dates, and then I'd overstimulate you in the bedroom. Logic, I would make you feel so, so good. I love you so, so much." 

King wraps his hand completely around Logic's cock, enveloping it entirely. He strokes slowly. "Logic, say you love me too." 

"Of course I do, King," Logic gasps, as he bucks his hips up into King's touch. "You know I do." 

King pushes their lips together, twisting his face against Logic's in a desperate, perverse manner. "Say it, Logic. Please, please, please."

Logic moans against King's lips. "I love you, too. King, I-" 

King holds him tight, squeezing his cock subconsciously as he holds firm to his Logic. He kisses Logic breathlessly, and then keeps kissing him until Logic's tearing his head away to cry out "close!" with tears pricking his eyes and a bright red flush dressing his face. 

"I know you are, my Logic. It must be torture having to hold back your pleasure when you're with Morality, or when you're dueling with the dark sides. When in reality all you want is to be in my hands, letting them fondle and please you until your brain is dripping out of your cock. Isn't that right? Isn't it torture?" 

"Yes!" Logic cries, as King strokes him quickly, rubbing his thumb over Logic's slit and smearing his pre down the length of his entire cock. "It's torture! Not being with you is torture! I'm close, King, I'm so close!" 

"I'd never stop you from coming, my sweet. I'd never deny you relief. I want you to live in bliss, with me." 

King works Logic's cock with all the might in him, squeezing and rubbing him feverishly until Logic's coming with a trembling cry. He is sensitive, and King is honestly surprised Logic managed to last even this long, and he whimpers as King works him through his orgasm. He then whines as overstimulation quickly sets in. 

King pulls his hand away when Logic starts to shift, and leans back to gracefully summon a rather big container of lube. 

Logic, panting, makes a confused face. "What are you doing?" he asks between breaths, which draws a hearty laugh from deep in King's gut. 

"My dear, you don't think I stripped down just for show, do you?" King asks, smiling playfully. "I mean, I'm aware I'm incredibly attractive, but I had other reasons for kicking my clothes to the side. One of which being I'd like to get close to you. I'd like to be in you. May I fuck you, my Logic? Lock our bodies close in the most intimate of ways?" King kisses Logic again, pushing his hard cock against Logic's spent one, and Logic can feel his own shaft twitching in interest. When King shifts his hips slightly, Logic gasps, and already knows his cock is hardening again. 

And so, he breathes out "yes."

King wastes no time pouring lube directly onto his length, massaging it in with a firm hand, teasing himself for Logic's enjoyment. 

Between soft grunts, he asks "do you need stretched?" to which Logic tucks his face into his shoulder out of embarrassment. 

Swallowing the spit in his mouth, Logic softly replies "probably not. We spend so much time together that I'm sure I can take it by now." 

"Are you sure? My dear, the last thing I want is to hurt you." 

"I'm sure, King," Logic answers, before shyly admitting "and even so, I'm afraid stretching me out would lead to another... untimely orgasm. And I'd rather not tire myself out before you even get the chance to get started." 

King affectionately swipes his thumb over Logic's bruising nipple. "How considerate," he sighs, lovingly, before lifting Logic's thighs up. He guides them so that they're wrapped around his waist, and presses the tip of his girthy cock against Logic's hole, causing Logic to grip the sheets in anticipation. 

"Deep breaths, my Logic," King soothes him, still enamored with how Logic looks with his face flushed and his hair disheveled, despite the fact they've undoubtedly been in this position hundreds of times. "I'll take care of you."

"Please," Logic breathes, voice barely audible. His eyes meet King's only briefly, before he lets them flutter shut, filled with complete trust in his king. "Please, King." 

"No need to beg, my sweet," King assures him. And then he slowly starts to push his cock in, filling Logic slowly, but completely. 

The feeling is incredibly familiar to Logic, as having sex plenty of times does in fact warrant quite a bit of familiarity, but he never quite gets used to the stretch. It's always overwhelming, in the best of ways, and Logic already feels his legs trembling with sheer delight as he squeezes his thighs around King's massive gut. 

"So pretty," King coos, as he pushes his hand beneath his stomach, and rubs it over Logic's front. He can feel the outline of his cock push against his hand from where it fills Logic's own body. "Nice and stuffed full... I should keep you constantly filled with my cock. Oh, how I dream of such a thing, Logic. Keeping you forever, fucking you forever, never giving either of us even the briefest of respites." 

"I'd let you," Logic gasps out, as King settles his full length completely inside of Logic. Logic feels so incredibly filled, and all the hickeys left on his body seem to throb in tandem, pulsating against his body as King's cock stuffs him full. "Please  move," he then begs, shifting his hips best he can with a rather impressive weight fucked deep inside of him. 

King bends over Logic, crushing him completely only to kiss at his face, uttering soft praises as he only moves his hips slightly. 

"Please," Logic desperately whines, voice dripping with need. His cock has been worked fully back up, and he can feel his pre leaking onto his stomach. "I need it. I need-"

King lets out a pleased moan, hands gripping Logic tight and holding him close. "I need you, too," King admits, his voice genuine and light. Such vulnerable words were almost... out of place coming from King, but that fact made Logic enjoy them even more. "I love you. Say you love me, Logic, say it over and over. Please."

"I love you," Logic moans, as King slowly pulls his cock out, and then roughly snaps his hips, fucking it back in. Logic's back arches upwards at the feeling, moaning loudly. He grabs tight to King's shoulders, squeezing his skin tightly as his cock twitches between his legs. 

It only takes a few slow strokes from King before he's hitting Logic's prostate - it's honestly hard to miss with a cock so big - and Logic's head is thrown back with a needy cry of King's name. 

Glasses askew on his face and drool dribbling down his lips, Logic is already embarrassed to feel himself getting close again. He would have thought that after rather frequent sexual encounters with King Creativity he'd have a little bit more stamina, but it's not like King was the type to ever deprive him of relief. Maybe the others, if he was in a bad mood, but never Logic. And so his orgasms kept coming quickly, often premature or all-too-fast considering their situation, and so as of now Logic's eyes prick with tears as he clenches his jaw and desperately tries to hold out at least a little bit longer. 

"King," he whimpers, his voice coming out like a wrecked sob. "King, please. It's so-" he gasps, "it's so much." He rolls his hips down on King's shaft, body shaking with intense pleasure.

"Gorgeous," King moans in response, pushing his face against Logic's and sloppily smashing their lips together. "You feel so good around me. You're doing so well. Good boy, my sweet, good Logic." 

King moves slow, but he's not the most gentle. His words are soft, but his thrusts are not. Logic is quickly worked into his second orgasm despite trying hard to restrain himself, and his hands fall from King's shoulders as he moans and fully goes lax against the mattress, too overstimulated to let King do anything other than use his limp body while he weakly whines and whimpers, internally pleased at the way King just keeps going, continuing to utter praises all the while. 

With tears rolling down his red face, Logic doesn't bother to fix his glasses, or grip the mattress, or do much of anything. He just continues to make pleased noises as King grunts above him, driving his large cock into Logic's much smaller body desperately, as though he needed this sex as much as Logic did. 

Blearily, Logic watches his stomach bulge with each intrusion of King's shaft, and watches as his body stretches and fills, only to fall back into form when King pulls even somewhat out. It's a constant pattern that gets sloppier the longer it goes on, until King's lips are pressing against Logic's own. 

"I'm going to fill you up," King moans, his breath hot against Logic's jaw. His entire body is hot, and knowing that Logic has already reached his peak multiple times only further intensifies his pleasure. Even seeing the marks he's left on Logic delights him. "You're so amazing, my Logic. All mine to please, and I love pleasing you. I love you." 

"Please," Logic tries to whimper, but no sound comes out of his mouth. 

King's palm rubs over Logic's stomach, and then over Logic's limp cock, working him into another meek, pitiful orgasm, though this one pathetically dry. Still, Logic sobs out soft noises of pleasure as King groans and comes moments after, fucking Logic full of semen, so much that it spills out of him in lewd spurts. As King pleases himself through his orgasm, more come spills out and gushes around his cock, and when he finally pulls out, there's a rather noticeable mess between them. 

King pants, while Logic sinks into the mattress, feeling overwhelmingly good. 

King looks over Logic for a few seconds, stroking his body sweetly while just... observing him, before King wordlessly falls against Logic, trapping his body beneath King's much larger one. 

Logic doesn't even bother to complain, instead relishing in the pressure. King's hot and sweaty, and they're both messy, but he feels incredibly loved and comforted, which is typically King's intentions when doing such intimate actions with him. Even if King isn't always so vocally attentive, he's always shown off his emotions physically, and right now crushing Logic with his form and holding tight to him was his way of saying he's clingy... and he wants Logic to stay.

So Logic squirms until King decides to roll onto his side, allowing Logic to peel off his glasses and set them as far to the side as he's able before letting King pull him close again.

His face is smothered in King's hairy chest, but his hair is lovingly pet through, as King - sounding a mixture of pleased and satisfied - murmurs quiet sentences of "I love you" and "you're so pretty," which makes Logic feel a lot warmer than it should. So he wraps his arms around King in turn, silently assuring King that he'll stay, and lets himself rest for a bit. A bit of relaxation could be good, he supposes.

Chapter Text

Of course Janus was the first one to notice. 

Logan honestly wouldn't expect anything less from the rather perceptive man. What Logan didn't expect, however, was just how confidently Janus would come strolling into his room, making his presence known with the wide swing of Logan's door, and the audible shut and click of it being closed and locked. 

Logan sighs, annoyed, while Virgil - who was lazily lounging on his bed - looks up with a scowl at the disturbance. 

Janus ignores their audible dismay at his arrival, and he sets his hands on the back of Logan's office chair, tilting it backwards while he leans forward to comment "my, Logan, did your shirt shrink in the wash? Or has your chest started to swell?"

Logan stiffens at Janus's words, and his hands very quickly go from typing on his computer, to crossed over his front. Instinctively, Logan's head snaps towards Virgil, gauging his reaction, but Virgil is too tired and annoyed to have fully processed Janus's words. 

"Piss off, Janus," Virgil grumbles, as he grabs a pillow from beneath his head and tosses it Janus's way. "We're busy." 

"You sure look it," Janus sarcastically replies. "Are you filing taxes in dreamland, or something?" 

Virgil growls and pushes himself up fully, but before he can cuss out Janus further, Janus is grabbing Logan's computer and tilting towards the bed. "Besides, Logan here sure isn't busy. He hasn't typed a proper sentence in more than three paragraphs!" 

Logan flushes. "I got distracted." 

"I'm sure you did." Janus leans closer to the computer, and reads out "'the the schedule that schedules meel - spelled with two e's - prep for for week.' My. How profound. What does that mean?" 

Virgil's face scrunches, and he turns to Logan with building confusion. "What does that mean?" he seconds, which has Janus smugly smirking as he grabs Logan's chin and tilts it upwards, forcing Logan to look into his eyes. 

"It means," Janus begins, speaking on Logan's behalf, "that Logan's mind is focused elsewhere. Like... on his aching chest, perhaps?" 

Virgil's eyes drift downwards, landing on Logan's crossed arms, hiding his torso. 

Stretching, Virgil groans out "Logan, do you need to be milked?" asking the question so casually that Logan feels incredibly embarrassed at just how hot his face becomes because of it. 

"Not urgently," Logan mutters, deflective. "I just got a bit lost in my own head, is all. That's why my writing is... nonsensical." 

"Hm..." Janus hums, forked tongue flickering out of his mouth as if sampling the air. "I taste a lie. Naughty little thing, you are. Claiming you don't need to be milked, even though there are so many people willing to help you. Isn't that right, Virgil?" 

Virgil glares at Janus, but sighs begrudgingly. "I hate to admit it... but he has a point. Why wouldn't you tell me you needed to be milked?" 

Logan tucks his face into his shoulder, turned away from the both of them. "I thought I could power through it." 

"Now why would you think such a silly thing?" Janus tsks, as he circles Logan's chair. He turns it as he walks around it, spinning Logan in a complete circle, before settling it so that it's facing the bed, where Virgil is leaning forward a bit, half tucked under the blankets, and where Janus sits on the edge of his mattress, crossing one leg over the other. "Especially since it's simply not feasible. You're dumb and helpless when your tits are full!" 

"That's not always true-" Logan tries to argue, but his hands are quickly grabbed and tugged, pulling him up from his chair and closer to the bed. He groans as he feels the milk in his chest slosh, and at the feeling of his heavy breasts swelling and aching with each movement. 

"It's true now though, isn't it?" 

Logan bites his lip, and avoids Janus's gaze by turning his head to the side. However, his eyes land on Virgil, who's staring at Logan's chest, which - thanks to Janus holding his hands - is very visibly on display. His shirt is pulled tight against his front, showing off just how full his breasts are. It's embarrassing, but Logan would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the way they were both ogling at him. 

"How about we help you, hm?" Janus proposes, as Logan's easily guided to slide onto Janus's lap. "We can milk you quickly, and then you can get right back to work." 

"That's not an awful suggestion," Virgil bitterly mumbles, as he scooches closer to Janus's side, solely so he can set one of his hands on Logan's waist. "It's not good to leave you full and pained for too long." 

One of Janus's hands rises to Logan's chest, which he squeezes slightly. Immediately, Logan's groaning, his head falling back whilst wearing a rather pathetic expression, and milk soaks instantly into his shirt, darkening and dampening the area. 

Logan's teeth sink into his lower lip as his body trembles with embarrassment, before he whimpers out an all-too pathetic "okay, quickly," sounding way more eager than he means to.

Janus turns towards Virgil and grins, before sliding his hands quickly and shamelessly beneath Logan's shirt, his own excitement prevalent in his movements as opposed to his voice (unlike Logan, who's already whimpering as Janus's gloves rub against his bare skin). Logan's freed fully of his shirt, and, under the guise of "not wanting to make a mess," his pants and boxers are quickly stripped away as well. 

Then, Janus pulls them both fully onto the bed, turning Logan in his lap as he does so. With his chest pressed flush against Logan's back, Logan's swollen chest is presented to Virgil, who moved alongside them. 

"Since you're so eager to help out, you can drink up first," Janus purrs, teasing Virgil with faux generosity. 

Virgil flushes, and mumbles a curse Janus's way, but otherwise scoots forward. As Janus's hands cup Logan's heavy breasts, Virgil picks one to focus on, leaving Logan watching him intensely, hot with anticipation. 

Virgil leans down, and rather slowly wraps his lips around one of Logan's nipples, but even the slight envelopment of Virgil's lips and the wet sensation of Virgil's tongue against the bud has him jolting. Logan's entire body seems to shiver as an embarrassingly loud moan spills from his throat, followed quickly by Logan whimpering as he pushes his palm over his mouth, desperate to save face. 

Immediately, Janus is scolding him softly. "Logan, you truly needn't be humiliated. Anyone would feel pleasurably relieved upon being milked... especially if they neglected their full tits for days on end." 

Pulling his lips away from Logan's chest without even suckling once, Virgil looks pointedly up at Logan's face, which is twisted in pleasure. "I don't think it's relief Logan's feeling," he mutters, knowingly. "At least, not yet. I think he's just a bit sensitive." 

"No, no, that can't be it." Janus wraps his arm around Logan's body and tangles his fingers in Virgil's hair in order to guide him back to Logan's areola. "Logan simply can't be sensitive. Why, if he's so easily aroused, then it'd be rather silly of him to think this'll be over quickly. What kind of people would we be if we just eased his ache, and then left him horny?" 

"Janus," Logan whines, as Virgil's tongue presses flat against his nipple. 

Janus laughs quietly into his ear. "Alright, alright. I'll stop teasing. And we'll take care of you. Just do me a favor, and keep your knuckles away from your lips, alright? I want to hear all the pretty noises you make, and I'm sure Virgil feels much the same." 

Logan swallows the spit in his mouth, but musters a weak nod, followed by a pathetically loud cry as Virgil sucks forcefully on his breast, causing milk to spill out of him onto Virgil's tongue. 

"Virgil," Logan shakily gasps, as Virgil softly sucks further. 

He drinks Logan's milk down by the mouthful, while Janus's hands press teasingly into Logan's breasts. "Doesn't that relief feel so, so nice?" Janus asks, voice smooth in Logan's ear. It only serves to amplify Logan's arousal, as Janus's words make him feel floaty and hot. He settles his chin on Logan's shoulder. "Though, he's going a bit slow, hm? Let's speed things up a bit." 

With Logan looking down at Virgil, Virgil peers curiously up at Janus, wondering just as much as Logan is what he's implying. Though, they both quickly learn when Janus squeezes Logan's tit roughly, forcing milk out with his fingers. 

"Janus!" Logan cries, back arching in pleasure at the intensity in which milk comes gushing out of him. Virgil's just as shocked, eyes going wide, but Janus's hand presses firmly on the back of his head to prevent him from pulling away. So with teary eyes, Virgil splutters and coughs around Logan's nipple, rushing desperately to swallow down the excess while quite a bit spills down his chin. Logan moans, noises spilling from his breathless mouth as his cock leaks between his legs. 

Janus says naught, but grins, pleased with himself as he continues massaging Logan's chest, urging more and more milk out and into Virgil's mouth. And Virgil quickly pushes past his initial surprise in order to keep up, licking and gulping down as quickly as he can, stimulating Logan's chest all the while with both his tongue, and the wet spit-milk mixture being sloshed around his cheeks. 

Logan writhes as Virgil sucks, his hands going from gripping Janus's thighs to Virgil's shoulders, both trying to steady himself and escape the pleasure, even if he truly doesn't want it to stop. And Virgil makes noises around his breast, whining and moaning at Janus's use of force to keep him still, which only sends pleasant vibrations through Logan's nipple and thus through his entire being. 

His cock throbs between his legs, threatening to burst at any moment solely due to his pathetic oversensitivity. And when Virgil scooches forward, trying to get more comfortable while sucking the milk from Logan's chest, his knee rubs accidentally against Logan's crotch, providing him the most menial and brief bit of pleasure that quite instantly has Logan coming on the spot. 

He cries loud and desperately as his body trembles with the force of his orgasm, and then Virgil is finally pulling away, with Janus's hands falling from his chest shortly thereafter. 

Panting, Logan slumps back against Janus, who wraps his arms around Logan's waist instead. 

"Needy thing, aren't you?" Janus teases. "Are you truly so deprived of pleasure that you came from just your breasts being sucked?" 

Embarrassed, Logan mumbles "Virgil rubbed against me." 

"Hardly," Virgil argues, as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. His lips glisten with leftover milk. "You're empty though... at least on that side. How do you feel?" 

"Better." 

"Just better?" Janus muses, as his fingers trail lightly along the length of Logan's messy cock, which has Logan whining and shifting in his lap. "Because it looks to me you feel rather good." 

Logan whines, and swallows the spit in his mouth, only to gasp as he's quickly lifted and maneuvered by far more hands than Janus had just a second ago. He's turned around in Janus's lap and then plopped back down, with his legs wrapped around Janus's hips and his cock pushing against Janus's stomach. He's left briefly dizzy, and Logan just barely processes his change in position fast enough to see Janus's many arms sink back into his sides, leaving him with just the usual pair.

Nodding towards Virgil, Janus speaks "go ahead and rid yourself of those pesky pants, Virgil. I've heard milk production doubles when cows are bred." 

"That's not true," Logan interjects. "Cows are regularly bred - once a year typically - and spend about ten months afterwards being regularly milked-" 

Janus cuts him off with a soft kiss, more so meant to distract him than anything else as Virgil undoes his jeans and peels away his boxers. Then, Virgil slides up behind him, and presses his own hard cock against Logan's ass. 

When Janus pulls his face away, he murmurs "are you implying you don't want to be bred?" 

Logan flushes, and turns his head away. "I didn't say that." 

Grinning, Janus reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a small bottle of lube which he obviously brought with him, as if he'd planned this from the get go. He tosses it to Virgil, and then undoes his own pants, just enough to pull out his cocks, which rub against Logan's own.  Logan whines and again wiggles, though this time his cock twitches and stiffens, embarrassingly raising with arousal once more. 

As Logan listens to the sounds of the bottle opening and Virgil groaning softly, he watches Janus lower his lips to Logan's chest, kissing down it seductively. He's slow on purpose, and his eyes flicker towards Logan's face in order to further tease him, while Logan just whines needily as Janus's mouth nears his leftover breast, which is still just as full as before, and just as aching. 

As Janus's tongue finally nears Logan's areola, Virgil slides right up against Logan's backside, with his slick cock rubbing between Logan's cheeks. And then Janus pulls away. 

"Wh-" Logan gasps, "what? Wait-!" 

Janus tsks at him. "Impatient little thing, aren't you?" Virgil passes the lube back around Logan's body, and this time Janus uses it, smearing the substance over both of his cocks even though he only intends to shove one inside Logan. "Once you're nice and full and bouncing, I'll continue drinking." 

Logan whines, clearly displeased as his hand comes up to cup his own breast, as if trying to keep the milk from spilling out. However, his initial restlessness quickly morphs into excited moaning when Virgil's calloused hands squeeze his love handles, and then raise him up just enough for his and Janus's cocks to poke against his awaiting hole. 

"Do you think he needs stretched first?" Virgil murmurs, his lips lightly hovering above the skin of Logan's back. "Taking both of us might be a bit... difficult." 

"It's not like he hasn't before," Janus counters. "But I guess we'll leave it up to him." Janus's eyes meet Logan's own. "Do you think you need to be prepped?" he asks, as if his and Virgil's cocks weren't teasing him by pressing against his hole. Janus already as an inkling as to what Logan's answer will be, but still takes the time to smugly grin in Virgil's direction when Logan predictably answers negatively. 

"I don't need stretched," he blurts out, sounding impatient and desperate. "I can take it." 

"See, Virgil? He can take it." 

Virgil lets out a soft breath against Logan's shoulder blades, as one of his hands wraps around one of Janus's cocks and his own shaft, holding their cocks together and still. "Okay. I'll trust you. But if it hurts at all we're stopping and stretching you properly." 

Then, with both Virgil and Janus's hands on his waist and sides, he's lowered down. The descent is both slow and tantalizing, playing into his neediness by making him anticipate the feeling of finally being full. His legs shake while his body is lifted, but he ignores the brief ache in favor of moaning loudly when the tips of Janus and Virgil's cocks finally push into him. 

To add to his pleasure, Janus keeps true to his words and wraps his lips around Logan's nipple properly, sucking confidently on the bud and drinking down the milk that sloshes into his mouth immediately, startling Logan and making his head fall back in a pleasured cry. 

"Yes!" Logan gasps out, as his tits are both generously relieved of their ache - one that had been throbbing all day; even since last night, when they'd started to get unbearably full and swollen. "Janus!" 

Janus's forked tongue creates the perfect divot for Logan's nipple to slide against, guiding milk out of him with every forceful suck and meager lick. 

Virgil grunts out a curse as the feeling of Logan clenching around him and Janus's cock rubbing against his own leaves him blushing, while Logan himself digs his nails into Janus's shoulders as he's not only filled by their cocks, but also expertly milked by Janus's skilled mouth. 

"Please," Logan breathes, voice shaky, as his hips drop against theirs. Their cocks are fully inside of him now, and Janus's leftover shaft rubs against his leaking one. "Please, I just... I need-" 

He can't get the words out, feeling too pleasantly fuzzy-headed to do anything but soak up the pleasure and relief he's experiencing, but he'd be begging for more if he could. Virgil and Janus seem to understand him anyway though, as their hands tighten on his body, squeezing and groping his skin intimately and using it to lift his hips again, only to drop him back down quickly, their cocks being shoved back inside of him. All while Virgil's lips kiss over his back, and Janus's lips tease Logan's breast. 

One of Janus's hands move to squeeze Logan's stomach, while the other focuses on his chest, massaging Logan's tit and squeezing milk out as he does so. He's careful not to force out too much - being a lot more mindful with himself than he was with Virgil - and slowly but surely Logan's chest looks less and less swollen, and his cries become louder and louder. 

Perhaps due to his sensitivity from already coming once, or perhaps because the feeling of milk gushing from his nipple is too great, but Logan orgasms again, hips jerking against Janus's visible, leaking cock, making a mess of both of them this time. 

Aside from the loud whine he lets out as he comes, there's hardly any acknowledgement he did so. Virgil and Janus keep him moving up and down, and up, and down, while Janus teases his nipple with his teeth. 

Logan gasps and tangles a hand in Janus's hair when he feels one of Janus's fangs slide threatening over the sensitive bud, biting just firm enough to tug. 

"Jan-" Logan starts, but can barely even stutter out Janus's name through his pleasure. With Virgil's hands focusing on his hips, and Janus's squeezing his breasts, it's only a matter of time until his cock is twitching again, hardening for the third time tonight. 

Janus teasingly looks up at Logan, pulling his mouth away from Logan's chest and dragging Logan's nipple with his teeth as he does so. Logan's chest arches into his lips, though a shaky moan is ripped from his throat. 

"Feeling good?" Janus coos, as a few stray droplets of milk escape from Logan's tit. Janus keeps rubbing them. 

"Yes," Logan whimpers. "Yes, I'm-"

"How good?" 

Logan's head falls back with a pathetic cry as the cocks inside of him thrust hard against his prostate, sending pleasure through his shaking body. "So good!" he cries in response. "Stretched and empty-" 

"Empty?" Janus gasps in surprise, before stifling a groan as Logan clenches around them. Behind Logan, Virgil moans, digging his nails into Logan's love handles. "There was still a bit of milk left in you! Here, let me show you."  

Janus once again connects his lips to Logan's breast, sucking down the rest of the milk available, which results in a decent mouthful. Though, instead of swallowing it down, he grabs the hair by the scruff of Logan's neck and pulls his face down, pressing their lips together and subsequently forcing milk down Logan's throat. 

Though he nearly gags, Logan obediently gulps it down, only to choke out a gargled moan when suddenly his cock is grabbed and rubbed against Janus's. With the mess already drenched between both of them thanks to Logan's previous excitement - and the excess lube Janus so graciously used - their cocks slide easily against each other. Logan leans forward, moaning loud at the touch, and Janus praises him softly. 

"Fuck, Logan," Virgil quietly mutters, "I wish I could see your face right now." 

"You're missing out," Janus teases, as he milks a few stray drops of pre from Logan's overwhelmed shaft, "he looks awfully pretty." 

Logan whines, and Janus huffs out a soft laugh at his cute overstimulation. 

As they continue to thrust against his prostate, Virgil and Janus slowly begin making noises of their own. Virgil moans against Logan's back, kissing at the sweat that begins to form. His hands slowly go from Logan's waist to his chest, squeezing tight to Logan's breasts. He gropes them roughly and desperately, squeezing his boobs together and digging his fingers into the soft, warm flesh. Janus's hands take over guiding Logan up and down, though he makes sure to summon an extra arm or two to keep Logan's cock stroked. 

"Fuck," Logan whines, with plenty of unintelligent obscenities coming out of his mouth shortly after. "I'm so... I need.... I-" 

"Needy boy," Janus whispers, as he kisses at Logan's neck. He squeezes their cocks together, drawing moans from both of them. In turn, Logan clenches around the cocks inside of him, and that added friction and tightness sends Virgil over the edge. Virgil moans loudly and grips Logan firmly, and Logan's body jerks excitedly as Virgil pumps him full of semen. 

Virgil only manages to thrust into him a few more times after that, and then buries his face into Logan's flesh, whining as Janus keeps thrusting around him. 

Tears prick Logan's eyes as he clings to Janus desperately, gasping between breaths as he struggles to catch his own, while Janus kisses over his body and rubs their cocks together. 

And then, without warning, Janus is bringing Logan's hips down hard, driving Janus and Virgil's cocks deep inside of Logan, before he comes as well, further filling Logan with come and making him moan and cry. 

"Please," Logan shakily begs. "I'm-" 

"I know," Janus soothes him. "Go on." 

"Please," Virgil then adds, though he's panting softly. "I always love hearing how you sound when you come." 

And Logan can't really hold back much longer than a few seconds, with his ass full of semen and his cock being stroked and rubbed against soft, slick flesh, and his oversensitive body being forced repeatedly into overwhelming oversensitivity. His orgasm fills him with sheer ecstasy; his eyes roll back into his head. His mouth opens as if he's crying out, but no sound is able to escape him, too consumed in his own pleasure to think about anything other than the few pathetic drops of semen that escape his otherwise empty balls. 

Janus frots their cocks together through his orgasm, but sweetly lets Logan go the moment he starts squirming in overstimulation, giving him a brief respite while they're all still pressed close together. 

"Do you want to shower?" Virgil then asks, though his voice is soft. He's not pressuring Logan to answer, and if Logan doesn't then he's more than happy cuddling with his cock still in Logan, but Logan exhales and nods, visibly fatigued. 

He goes uncharacteristically lax, relying solely on them to lift him off their cocks and then carry him after. Janus carefully peels Logan's glasses off his face and then steps into the bathroom first - starting the water and letting it get warm - before he comes back to help Virgil to his feet. Virgil carries Logan close, rubbing his trembling body while whispering sweet nothings. 

They help him shower and clean him out, being careful around his overwhelmed cock and tender breasts, and then wrap him up in a cozy towel after. Again, Virgil holds him as Janus picks out pajamas, and then they're all cuddled up in baggy clothes on Logan's bed, with fresh blankets draped over them. 

As Logan's spooned from both sides - Virgil again affectionately hugging his back, while Janus presses their chests together - he suddenly freezes when Virgil hums and quietly asks "hey... didn't you used to have pumps? Whatever happened to them?" 

Logan's eyes go wide, and flicker up to Janus's face. Thanks to his blurred vision, Janus's expression is unreadable, but he's sure his own red face gives away the answer to Virgil's question.

Though, luckily, Janus sweetly lies "he's already asleep, dear," which seems to dissuade Virgil's curiosity. For now, at least. 

And then Janus is snuggling back up to him, guiding Logan's face to his chest and petting through his hair, while Virgil tangles all three of their legs together, keeping them all close and content. 

Chapter Text

Logan's roommate was... insufferable. 

He would constantly make a mess of their shared apartment - leaving dirty dishes on the sink, sticking chewed-up gum to any and every surface, trampling mud everywhere - but that wasn't even the worst of it. What was worse than the way he treated property, was the way he treated people. 

It was no surprise he had no friends with how Logan witnessed him treat others. He'd spit on people's faces, insult their clothing, cut their hair; Remus has been talked to by the police repeatedly for petty, harmful crimes, but it was never anything that Remus's thick wallet couldn't get him out of. Not showering was probably also a rather prominent deterrent. 

But the most horrible thing about Remus's gross, distasteful, and disgusting behavior was how badly it aroused Logan. 

Each burp in his face, tug to his hair, or shove to his body sent Logan spinning through waves of arousal that'd cause him to stumble to his room and hump a pillow, picturing Remus treating him callously and degradingly even while Logan was actively whimpering for Remus to treat him worse and worse still. 

And today was no different. 

Logan's drying his hands after doing a sink full of dishes - most of which were not dirtied by him, and were instead messed by Remus's sloppy, careless cooking - when Remus comes stomping into the room. He's wearing boots throughout the house, seemingly ambivalent towards the fact he's tracking dirt through their carpeted floors, and leaving a mess on their recently-swept kitchen tiles. 

He shoves Logan into the sink as he struts past, and reaches up to the cabinet, where he pulls out a party-sized bag of potato chips. 

He reeks of sheer sweat, and he's completely focused on ripping open his snack and shoving his hand in immediately. 

As he shovels a handful of chips into his mouth, he finally turns towards Logan, who is trying his hardest to ignore Remus's existence while putting away his dishes. 

"I just got done masturbating," Remus says, and the words shock Logan so bad he drops the silverware he's holding. 

Logan's face goes red with embarrassment at the statement, but he clears his throat and only offers a quiet, dismissive "that's nice," in response, knowing that if he tries to say anything more, the tremor in his voice will be immediately evident. 

Remus, however, seemingly isn't satisfied with Logan's lackluster reaction, and so adds "I tossed the used sock in your hamper. You don't mind washing it, right? You'll have to clean it out before hand, unless you want to impregnate your other clothes with my spunk, but I'm sure someone as smart as you would know an easy way to do that." 

"You have your own hamper," Logan reminds him, though his voice is barely a murmur. 

Remus bursts out laughing, getting a mixture of chewed up chips and spit on Logan's face and the back of his neck. "You think I use my hamper? I mean, I guess I do! It's currently being used as a condom depository, but... I'm out of condoms. Hence why my right sock was my best friend today." 

Remus slips his sole out of his boot and raises his bare foot into the air with a surprising amount of flexibility (considering he's got a rather large gut in the way). He presses his sweaty toes against the side of Logan's face, finally causing Logan to turn towards Remus and huff. 

"I'm busy," Logan insists. "I don't need you... distracting me." 

"You think I'm distracting?" Remus's foot slaps back onto the ground, and eventually twists back into his shoe. "I'm flattered." 

"I'm serious. I can't put dishes away when you're shoving your feet into my face." Logan glances towards where Remus is leaning against the counter, and sees he's blocking a drawer he needs. So Logan motions towards that, too. "You're also in my way." 

"Then do the laundry first, bitch," Remus hisses in response, as he refuses to move. "And don't worry. There'll be plenty of dishes waiting for you when you get back." 

Logan frowns, but swallows the spit in his mouth as he dejectedly tosses his forks and spoons back into the dishrack, and then walks off. He hears Remus continuing to loudly crunch on his chips as he heads down the hall, but finds himself rather quickly shuffling into his room and pushing the door shut, finally allowing himself to shakily exhale a soft moan he had been desperately biting back. 

He doesn't know what he finds more appealing about Remus - his complete lack of regard for Logan, or his general gross hygiene! 

In fact, Logan finds himself pathetically scrambling over to his laundry hamper, fully aware that Remus was in his room without his knowledge or permission solely so he could throw his clothes into Logan's bin. And at the very top of his laundry basket is the aforementioned sock... which is in fact full of Remus's semen. Furthermore, there's a variety of worn, sweaty clothes beneath the sock, no doubt having been piled up from Remus's months of wearing-without-washing. Some of the shirts smell ripe, while a few pairs of boxers are still moist to the touch. Any normal person would find clothes in such condition to be nauseating, but Logan finds himself hard in his pants. Indecently so. 

Before he even realizes he's doing it, his hands are moving towards the hamper, and he's grabbing a pair of soaked boxers. Squeezing the fabric in his hands makes him cringe, but bringing it to his face has him moaning, as rank sweat and musk fills his nose and overwhelms him completely. 

He feels utterly pathetic, but he honestly can't help it. He's associated Remus's disgusting body odor with pleasure, thanks to an initial impulsive decision months ago to huff Remus's dirty clothes while getting off. Now it was a mixture of habit and desperation, as he felt almost incapable of getting off unless he could smell Remus and picture him being there with him. Being so close to Remus Logan could smell him, so close that if Logan were to stick his tongue out, he could lick him. And yes, maybe months ago Logan would have thought such thoughts and behaviors were perverse, inappropriate, or odd, but now? Now he can do nothing but suck on the sweaty fabric of Remus's boxers, dropping to his knees in front of his laundry basket while one of his hands slides over the front of his pants. 

His hips roll slightly into the palm of his hand as he holds Remus's boxers firmly against his face. He can get off quickly, and then start a load of laundry... after cleaning out Remus's sock, of course. 

And, oh, Remus's sock... filled to the very brim with semen which has soaked into the very fibers of the fabric. It's gross, unhygienic, and an improper use of such an object, but Logan likes that, too. He's half-tempted to reach into the laundry basket and find the wet sock in order to get off to that, too!

 But unfortunately, before he can indulge any further than he currently is, he hears the horrifying sound of his door being pushed open. 

As his doorknob slams into his wall hard enough to break through it, Remus's shrill voice shouts "Logan! I drank the last coke! Next time you head to the store, you need to get some more. Preferably two packs this time-" 

Logan, despite partially facing the hamper, knows he's completely exposed to Remus's intense eyes, and his deep-rooted fear of being caught doing something he knows he's not supposed to be doing is immediately being seized when Remus gasps, and then bursts into genuine, gut-wrenching cackling. 

"Holy shit!" Remus laughs, as Logan's hand immediately slams into the ground, pulling Remus's boxers away from his face. 

Logan's fingers twist and rush to try and scrunch up Remus's dirty underwear, as if hoping he can hide the wet fabric underneath his hand, but he knows that even if he manages to ball it up, he can't erase what Remus has already seen. 

Remus basically falls against Logan's desk while wheezing in sheer amusement, impulsively slamming his fist into the neat wood, scrambling papers, pens, and spilling a small cup full of extra pencils and rulers all over the table and onto the floor. 

The shrill laughter fills Logan's room, with Remus's amusement only further amplifying Logan's arousal to an embarrassing degree. 

"Oh," Remus pants, shaking his head in disbelief. Between his more-than-amused words is the slight movement of his jaw, as if he's chewing something while speaking. "Oh my god." 

"I'm sorry," Logan immediately blurts, as it's the only thing he can think to say in this moment. "I'm- I didn't mean to- I'm sorry." 

Wiping at the tears in his eyes, Remus flashes Logan a degrading grin emphasized by loud chewing, causing Logan to shrink as far into himself as he's capable of. Remus crouches down next to him seconds later, grabbing Logan by his hair and yanking him up partially off the ground, while reaching to grab his dirty boxers from Logan's clenched fists. 

"You're not sorry," Remus immediately spits at him, as he unrolls his own boxers. He pinches them between his thumb and pointer, holding the fabric outstretched as if even he thinks they're disgusting, despite the fact his sweat and musk made it so. "You don't just sniff and suck someone else's dirty underwear by accident." 

"I never said it was an accident," Logan stammers in response. "My apology was more so directed towards my perversion, and disrespect for your..." Logan dares to glance up at Remus's intense eyes, and gulps at the smug look he's given, "your privacy." 

Remus snorts, and releases Logan, causing him to land rather hard on his knees. "Your version of perversion is fucking pathetic. Sniffing boxers? Humping your hand? Don't tell me a bitch-ass virgin like you doesn't even know how to masturbate correctly." 

"I'm not a virgin," Logan barely whispers, in weak defense. "And there's no correct way to masturbate. In fact, there's a whole plethora of-" 

A harsh kick to his stomach has him groaning before he could finish his sentence, doubling over and wrapping his arms tightly around his midsection as a shaky breath escapes him. When he looks back up at Remus - tears of pain stinging his eyes - Remus just blows a bubble with the gum he's been savoring. The pop of the spherical bubble causes pink goo to splatter and stick to Remus's mustache and in the cracks of his chapped lips, but he only haphazardly wipes his face to rid himself of (most of) the residue before seizing Logan by the collar of his shirt and yanking him up once more. 

Remus then reaches into his mouth and pulls out his chewed gum, which has turned a less saturated pink and has been utterly clumped up by Remus's constant gnawing. Grinning, Remus sticks the gum to one of Logan's lenses, and swipes his thumb, smearing the treat over the glass and absolutely mucking up Logan's spectacles. 

"Does that make your dick throb too, fag?" Remus asks him, as he shakes Logan back and forth. 

Logan whimpers. "Remus, I-" 

"Answer the fucking question, or I'll beat the shit out of you." 

Logan's mouth opens, and then closes, and then opens again, as he struggles to think concisely while also preserving his dignified manner. Though, nothing about this situation is dignifying, especially considering his cock was indeed twitching in his boxers, and he wanted nothing more than to touch himself to Remus's insults. And so, he eventually - embarrassingly - affirms "yeah. It... it does." 

Remus spits on him, his saliva decorating Logan's cheek and part of his lips, and then he's pulling Logan over to his own bed and shoving him onto it. 

Logan basically has to scramble his way onto the mattress as he watches Remus shimmy out of his shirt, though Remus leaves his pants and shoes on as he follows Logan onto the sheets. Keeping hold of his dirty boxers, Remus has no shame in settling his weight on Logan's midsection to pin him down, before he roughly shoves his fist in Logan's face. Logan's nose ends up knocked and aching, but what's even more intense than that is the fact Remus's underwear is being forced against his nostrils and mouth, leaving him to soak in Remus's scent. 

"Sniff it up, whore," Remus demands, as he rubs his sweaty boxers all over Logan's face, pushing his glasses halfway off his head and further injuring Logan's nose. "If I can't hear you smelling, then you're not doing a good enough job." 

Logan squirms beneath him, his hands landing on Remus's fat thighs. He pushes slightly as he's overwhelmed, but Remus just lifts his hips up, and then slams his body back down, pinning Logan's wrists under him and leaving him still and stuck. The air is pulled from his lungs thanks to Remus's disregard for his body. 

A sob is pulled from Logan's mouth as Remus presses his underwear harder against his face, before Remus suddenly grants him a breath of fresh air, as he lifts his hand up. 

With teary eyes and shaking breaths, Logan looks towards the blurry figure that is Remus, who - even with Logan's partial blindness - looks doubtlessly entertained. 

"Enjoying yourself, faggot?" Remus jeers. "I'm sure as hell enjoying watching you writhe like the pathetic fucking worm you are." Remus rolls his hips down against Logan, making Logan's body go hot with humiliation as a moan is pulled from his spit-soaked lips. 

With Remus's awaiting gaze, Logan's helpless to do anything but slowly nod his head. Remus laughs at him immediately upon doing so. 

"You're sooooo fucking pitiful," Remus continues to insult. "Who knew that all this time you've been masquerading as a normal, functioning member of society, when instead you're actually a sniveling, feeble, perverted fucking bitch." As he speaks, his hand slides to Logan's throat, which he squeezes without warning, causing Logan to choke out a gasp. "Have you gotten off to all my dirty clothes? Come on each piece of fabric before washing away your sin without thinking I'd ever catch on?" 

"No," Logan weakly insists. "Only... only a few articles..." 

Remus's stomach grumbles before Remus can further mock Logan for his perverseness, and he sinks one of his hands into the fat flesh, massaging his gut as he curses under his breath. Logan watches him do so, almost... envious. 

"Fuck," Remus groans, "that soda is not agreeing with me." 

Though Logan's arousal is intense and prevalent, he still asks "are you okay?" embarrassed of the fact he hopes Remus is, so that Remus doesn't get up and leave. 

There's silence for a moment, before Remus is leaning over Logan. His throat makes a disgusting, bubbling sound, before he burps outright in Logan's face, flooding Logan's nostrils with the revolting scent of potatoes and sweet syrups. The smell simultaneously makes him nauseous, and makes him moan. 

Logan attempts to turn his head to the side as Remus blows his gaseous aftermath into his orifices, but Remus just grabs his face by his cheeks to hold him still, and simultaneously push his mouth open. 

"What? Are you ungrateful? Stupid brat," Remus scolds him. "I'm basically giving you a gift, and you're trying to turn away?" 

"I' gro'," Logan tries to reply, but it's difficult to get any words out with his face clenched. 

"So what if it's gross? My dirty boxers are gross, and you had no problem breathing in that repulsive stench." Remus holds up his boxers at proof, and then shoves them back into Logan's face, wiggling his face back and forth mercilessly until Logan's neck aches. "Would you rather me strap these to your ugly face until you're choking on my fumes? Huh? Or are you going to be a good fucking whore and let me do what I please?" 

Honestly, both options sound more than pleasurable to Logan, who is fully aware that most people would not find either of those things hot were they in his situation, but has already accepted that he's unlike most people. But, as Remus pinches his nose shut with a tight twist, Logan's left struggling to breathe with his mouth as he's forced to make a decision. 

"I'll be good," he answers, as his voice comes out muffled and nasally thanks to Remus's grip. "You can... you can do whatever you want." 

Remus snickers at him immediately, and tosses his boxers to the side, where they land on Logan's floor. "Really? Just like that? One threat and you're already forking your body over like a slab of slimy meat?" 

Red in the face, Logan murmurs "yeah." 

Remus snorts, and shakes his head judgmentally, leaving Logan to sink deeper into his mattress out of humiliation. Because he should not be consenting to letting Remus use him, especially not so quickly, but he can't help it! Remus is attractive, his insults are attractive, his gross habits are attractive, and fuck Logan wants nothing more than for Remus to actually touch him. 

"Dumb, idiotic, pathetic whore." Remus scratches at the stubble on his chin, while looking towards Logan's nightstand. "Got any toys in there?" 

"No, sorry." 

"Pity. I was going to fuck you open with one to prepare you for my fat cock, but I guess you're just going to have to deal with the pain." Remus cups his bulge through his pants, and it does indeed look thick. Luckily, though, Remus stuffs his hand into one of his pockets, and pulls out lube, which is somewhat relieving. "Surely a slut like you can handle a nice, big stretch, right?" 

Though he gulps, Logan meekly nods, ashamed of how quickly his legs are spreading apart. 

Remus laughs at the action and scoots back on Logan's body, finally easing off of him and allowing Logan to breathe normally. Between Logan's thighs now, Remus is quick to sink his nails into Logan's waist and drag them downwards, using that painful action to pull Logan's pants down, leaving red scratches in his wake. In fact, Logan's jeans slide down his legs so forcefully that the button on them is popped off, and the zipper is forced apart. Logan's boxers go with them, exposing his wimpy, leaking cock. 

As blood begins to bead on the scratches down his thighs, Remus tosses the lube at Logan's face, nailing him in the bridge of his nose as he comments "you have as long as it takes me to get undressed to prep yourself. Once I'm naked, I'm going to pump you full of my thick, sloshing spunk, and I'm not going to stop until it's gushing out your nostrils." 

Knowing that Remus is completely serious, Logan scrambles to grab the lube and prop himself up somewhat. He fumbles with the cap, his eyes darting between watching Remus tug down his pants and wondering how he's even going to get his fingers covered in the lube before Remus decides to use him, before he realizes he simply won't have enough time. He needs to do something drastic unless he wants to be torn open and in the hospital tonight. And so, in an impulsive act of rash decision making, Logan awkwardly angles his body up and presses the bottle of lube against it hole. With a rather unpleasant push, he gets the rim of the container inside of him, and then squeezes, flooding his innards with a rush of lubricant. A sudden cry escapes his lips at the fascinating feeling as he empties the entire bottle, before pulling it away with a wet pop and tossing it to the floor, shivering as he feels lube slowly squelch out of him. 

As he adjusts his glasses, he notices (through his one good lens) Remus staring wide-eyed at him. 

"Holy fuck," Remus breathes, before a twisted grin stretches across his face. Completely nude now, and with one hand holding tight to his thick, leaking cock, he licks his lips. His eyes slowly scan Logan's body, as if Logan is a delicious turkey he's about to stuff full. "That was so fucking hot." 

"I was just... trying to be efficient," Logan attempts to explain, but Remus just rolls his eyes and - in a matte of a few seconds - brings his hand down hard across Logan's face. 

He slaps Logan with so much force that Logan's glasses soar across his bed and knock against the wall, before falling dejectedly against his pillows. From what Logan can see whilst squinting, they look mostly intact, but he can't tell for sure. And either way, the stinging of his cheek mixing with his sudden helplessness upon being relegated to being blind has his cock throbbing, and Logan digging his nails into the mattress. 

Remus spits on his face shortly after, his warm saliva soaking into Logan's hot cheek, where a bright red handprint is no doubt present. 

"You were trying to show off your tight fucking hole, that's what you were doing," Remus snarls, even if it's not true in the slightest. "And trust me, I'm already more than interested in splitting you open. Ten bucks says you'll tear before I've even had my first orgasm." 

Remus laughs at his own words while leaning over Logan fully, with one of his hands pinning Logan's wrists above his head and the other shamelessly squeezing at Logan's pudgy chest, massaging Logan's breasts in his hands with little regard to just how tight or sometimes painful his grip is, as if he's using Logan solely for his benefit. As if Logan's just a blow-up doll for Remus to grip, grope, and go to town on. 

Sweat's already forming on Remus's greasy, glistening body. Up close he smells disgusting, like thick musk that infiltrates Logan's very being, as drops of perspiration land against Logan's own chest.

And then, without warning, Remus is pushing his cock into Logan's body. 

Maybe Logan was underestimating just how different Remus's cock would be compared to Logan's other sexual encounters, but he feels so much better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

His bed creaks as Remus gives him no time to adjust to how full he feels, the stretch of his hole, and the fact his body is flush with arousal, and instead starts pounding roughly into Logan, making animalistic noises with each jerk of his hips as if he truly is fucking a brainless toy. And one that he doesn't care about breaking. 

"God, you're so fucking tight," Remus grits, and Logan has a hard time deciphering whether or not it's a compliment. It makes him moan regardless, as his fingers flex and his wrists push up against Remus's twisting palm. Remus squeezes tighter around his hands in response, which fill Logan's arms with a surge of pain and causes the tips of his fingers to feel fuzzy. "You're much better than a sock. Worse than an onahole, but nobody's perfect. Maybe you should tell me how much you love being kebabbed on my fat dick; that might make you at least a little more appealing." 

Logan whines, and then cries outright, sucking in mouthfuls of stale air as his room becomes hotboxed by the smell of sex and sweat. "It feels so good," he says, and he truly means it. "It feels so, so much better than- than just touching myself." 

"Pathetic faggot," Remus snickers, "did you get off to me every time?" 

Red in the face, Logan hesitantly admits "typically." 

In response, Remus slams into him much, much harder, making Logan's body tremble. His large, slick stomach slides against Logan's front, rubbing against Logan's cock and smearing him with Remus's smell. He's sure by the end of this he'll need a nice, long shower, but for now he lets himself soak in the pleasure that comes with Remus pressing against him and fucking him deep. 

"God," Remus eventually groans, as his hand finally gives Logan's red nipple a break in order to rub his own stomach instead. "All this movement is upsetting my stomach. All that carbonation I gulped down's got to come back up eventually, right?" Remus smacks Logan's face slightly, hard enough for Logan's eyes to well up with tears. "Right, bitch?" 

"Mhm," Logan eventually whimpers. "The bubbles from the carbon dioxide you drank bubbles in your digestive system, which turns into gas that needs to be expelled-" 

Remus slaps him hard again, and Logan's hips jerk as he moans. "Shut up and open your mouth." 

Obediently (and filled with sheer excitement and anticipation) Logan does as he's told, parting his lips. The moment they're even slightly agape, Remus is kissing him - though, it's less of a kiss, and more like Remus is messily rubbing their lips together, licking into Logan's mouth and filling Logan's cheeks with his own salty, potato-tasting saliva. Logan's body instinctually cringes, but he moans against Remus anyway, arching his back up into him as Remus continues to thrust harder and harder. And then, he burps. 

Logan knew it was coming, and he's still caught off guard. 

His eyes snap open and his head struggles, but Remus just rests more of his weight atop Logan and pushes his disgusting breath down Logan's throat, making Logan feel pleasurably dizzy. He can feel his abdomen swelling with intense warmth, and his face is soon covered by his own tears. 

Remus pulls away briefly, panting out of sheer amusement. "How do my leftovers taste, whore?" 

Logan coughs, and then wipes some of the spit from his mouth onto his shoulder. He doesn't bother responding, as he's sure the loud moan he lets out instead is answer enough. 

Pleased by this, Remus kisses him again, biting at Logan's lips until Logan can sample the unmistakably metallic taste of blood splattering against his tongue, and then Remus is burping again. 

He seemingly has no qualms about cutting off Logan's airflow by blocking it with his own gaseous, flavorful bursts of air, and Logan has no complaints about breathing it down, as he feels embarrassingly more and more hot with each disgusting belch Remus forces into him. 

When Remus pulls away a second time, reddish-tinted spit drips carelessly from his tongue and over both their bodies. "I think my tank's empty now, spunkslut. It's a shame, I know. But don't worry, I still got a lot more things I can give you." 

Grinning, Remus grabs Logan by the back of the head, and thrusts hard into Logan as he bends over him fully, smothering Logan's face between his sweaty breasts while simultaneously fucking his cock right against Logan's prostate. Logan's mouth opens wide in a muffled cry against Remus's slick chest as pleasure courses through him, and overwhelms his pathetic cock, which comes immediately whilst rubbing against Remus's own body. 

Remus laughs outright when he feels Logan's pathetic orgasm against his stomach. "Oh my god, already? That's so fucking embarrassing!" Remus's delight at Logan's own quick climax already has Logan whining, as he knows Remus is going to keep going, and he really doesn't want Remus to stop. 

"Remus," Logan moans, as he feels sweat roll down his face. His body is so incredibly hot in the most overwhelming of ways, as Remus continues abusing him during his refractory period. "Remus, please, I-" 

Remus is pressing down harder against him again before a single plea can escape his mouth, and Logan's truly grateful. He doesn't even know what he'd be begging for. For Remus to hurry and come inside of him? For him to slow just long enough for Logan's cock to harden again? He's unsure! 

Whatever the plea may be, it's lost against Remus's torso, suffocating him with the sole purpose of shutting him up. And Logan just lets him, ashamed of how sensitive he is and how being trapped underneath Remus's squishy, sweaty body causes his abdomen to swell with familiar warmth. 

Very quickly soon after, Logan feels his cock begin to twitch to life once more. 

Remus feels it too, and lets out a breathy laugh. "Is that pathetic little cock of yours getting hard again? God, you're such a pitiful little worm. I want to smother you until you're unconscious and use your body like the fucktoy it is... and I would, too, if it didn't mean I'd miss out on the stupid noises you make."

Logan moans again, and Remus's thrusts become even sloppier, with lube squirting out around Remus's cock as Remus replaces the substance with his own milky pre. 

"Would you like that? If I abused you like the bitch you are? I bet you'd thank me for it so long as I stuffed your mouth with my rancid socks after." 

Rolling his hips upwards against Remus's body, Logan ruts his cock as hard as he can against Remus's stomach, while Remus continues to stretch open his hole. Remus has started to pant and groan, no doubt over exerting himself for the sake of a fun fuck. Logan finds himself internalizing the animalistic noises Remus makes, enjoying them quite a bit. 

And then, Remus is coming suddenly, filling Logan's hole without warning with his thick, large load. Logan's barely giving any time to process Remus's orgasm before it completely overstimulates him, and his little cock spurts out a few pathetic drops of semen that are hardly noticeable when mixed in with his early puddle and Remus's perspiration. 

Remus growls as he comes, sounding as though he's biting Logan's comforter and moaning against it, punctuating his climax with a few harsh thrusts, before pulling out, and leaving Logan looking like a sloppy, used toy. 

"Ha," Remus laughs, between heavy breaths, "ha, ha, ha. You look so fucking stupid right now." 

Logan doesn't say anything in response, as his head spins. He sucks in multiple gulps of fresh, untainted air. 

"I wish you had let me known how much of a whore you were before today. I would have loved getting to drown you in my spunk every time one of my toys broke." Remus sticks his pinkie in his ear, and twists it back and forth as he adds "speaking of which, where do you keep your debit card? I need a new fleshlight; my old one fell apart the last time I used it." 

Logan blinks slowly at him while rubbing his bright red wrists, and then lethargically motions to his desk, which his wallet is resting atop of. Shamelessly, Remus hops off Logan's bed, stretches briefly, and then grabs Logan's entire wallet. He doesn't even say thanks as he holds it tightly in his hand. Instead, he searches in all of Logan's desk drawers until he finds a thick roll of duct tape, which he begins to unroll. 

Squinting, Logan tries to gauge what he's doing, but finds himself quickly yelping as Remus jumps onto him in order to grab the previously discarded pair of boxers. 

With those items in hand, Logan finds his mouth very quickly forced open and filled with Remus's sweaty underwear, making him moan as as much of the fabric that's able to be pushed into his mouth is held there by Remus's hand, and then taped there as Remus wraps the duct tape around his entire head four times over, securing it in place. 

Then, the roll of tape is being chucked at Logan's face too, causing a small scratch on his forehead. 

"You better keep sucking on those all day, got it?" Remus hisses. "After you make me a nice big dinner, I'm going to bend you over the stove and fuck you while it cooks your body, and I want my smelly underwear to be a reminder of what you're in for. And who you belong to. Got it?" 

Logan's hips give a pathetic jerk, and Remus looks almost disgusted by it. 

"I'm going to go actually do something productive, like order myself a new toy, and maybe some bondage gear for my other new toy. How would you like being zipped up in a fully latex suit, unable to move or speak? Not that I actually care what you think..." 

Remus gives Logan's face a mocking pat before he leaves, and then he's stomping out of the room, leaving Logan high off his sweat and red in the face. 

And, humiliatingly, Logan's hand moves down towards his flaccid, empty cock, and begins to stroke it a final time, as he excitedly imagines how dinner tonight will go. 

Chapter Text

"Deceit," King softly begs, as Deceit purposefully ignores him in favor of reaching into his terrarium and caressing his pet snakes' scales slowly. "Come on, let me treat you." 

"Like how you treated me to a romantic boat ride?" Deceit responds, his voice quiet, but firm. 

"The boat capsizing was not my fault." 

"Or how you took me out on a passionate picnic?" 

King frowns, and steps closer to Deceit, settling his large hands on Deceit's hips. "How was I supposed to predict it'd rain?" 

Deceit glares at King. "You control the imagination." 

"I keep an inconsistent weather cycle to make things feel more realistic. Typically it's a lot more fun to have a bit of unpredictability keeping me on my toes." As he speaks, he moves towards Deceit, and wraps his arms around Deceit's waist. "But I'm so, so sorry it quite literally rained on our parade." 

"You can say sorry all you want. It doesn't change the fact my clothes got utterly soaked through." 

King kisses at Deceit's jaw, and despite Deceit's annoyance he still turns his head to the side, allowing King to more properly kiss his cheek, and the corner of his lips. "I promise you there'll be no rain this time. Just a movie, and some intimate cuddling." 

Deceit's eyes narrow. "Your bed's not infested with bedbugs, is it?" 

"I'd never sleep with such cretins! Insects don't deserve to share a bed with my grandeur!" 

"As if that would be the problematic part of sleeping with bedbugs," Deceit mutters, as he lets King take his hand. He doesn't verbally protest in the slightest as their arms are linked together, but he does drag his feet as King tries to pull him out the door. 

When King notices his resistance, he hesitates, and looks back at Deceit almost a little... nervous. 

"Do you... not want to watch a movie?" 

"I'm fine with watching a movie," Deceit quickly replies, "but I'm not following you all the way out into the imagination. I mean... we're already in my room." Glancing at his bed, Deceit steps back towards it, and King obediently follows his lead. "We could always watch a movie in here. It'd mean I don't spend an hour fussing over your castle's thermostat." 

King chuckles. "You do always find my room too cold..."

"It is always too cold. Every room should be a comfortable eighty degrees!" 

As Deceit settles back onto his bed, King's quick to crawl over him. "Eighty degrees is much too hot. I shall surely broil under such intense height." 

Snickering, Deceit slyly replies "King, I'm pretty sure your body runs hotter than eighty degrees at any given moment. You're like a comfortable space heater. It's one of your best traits." 

"Harsh, though I'll take any compliments I can get from you." 

Most of Deceit's initial bitterness melts away into cheeky enjoyment as King lays on top him, before rolling over so that they're both on their sides. With their chests pressed together, King goes from stroking Deceit's hair to running his big hands down Deceit's back, cupping his lower back and then petting further down Deceit's ass. When King dares to squeeze, Deceit snorts, and pushes King lightly in the chest. 

"What happened to intimate cuddling?" 

"We are intimately cuddling," King murmurs playfully in response. "What's more intimate than skin to skin contact?" 

His fingers slip beneath Deceit's shirt, making Deceit shiver. 

As his hands set themselves on King's toned chest, feeling his muscles beneath his tight clothing, Deceit utters "I can't help but think you have ulterior motives, my King. And your idea of a nice movie night was actually a ploy to tempt a helpless man into bed with you." 

"A light side like me would never tempt," King huffs, "and you, my sweet serpent, are far from helpless." 

"I like to pretend." 

Chuckling, King's lips start at Deceit's forehead, before slowly moving down his face. "You like to be spoiled, is what you like. It just so happens I'm incredibly attracted to damsels in distress, and would bend over backwards satisfying one." 

Raising an eyebrow, Deceit quips "well, I surely don't see you bending over backwards..." 

"I will if you'd be so generous as to let me," King replies, his voice a hushed, intimate whisper. His lips ghost Deceit's forehead, sending shivers instinctively down Deceit's spine. Though he pretends to be conflicted by King's request, he inevitably relents with a soft sigh. 

"Do what you must," Deceit hums, feigning disinterest... if not complete inconvenience, but his hands already undoing his pants to aid in King's conquest. 

With his big hands moving hastily over Deceit's body, Deceit ends up fully nude. When goosebumps ripple over the fleshy side of his body, King's quick to heave Deceit's comforter over the both of them, even if it hinders the process of stripping himself down. Despite the challenges, he does eventually manage to get naked himself, and he and Deceit are both snickering like naughty kids as they end up cuddled under the blankets nude, pressed chest to chest. 

"It doesn't really seem your style, but it doesn't hurt to ask..." King starts, voice low. "You wouldn't happen to have any lube on hand, do you?"

"Do you think a gentleman such as myself would carry such... perverse thing on my person?"

"Yes." 

Though he rolls his eyes, Deceit rolls over and digs into his bedside drawer. "Fine. You're right. But I'm displeased that you think me such a sex-addict." 

"My dear, I'd never consider you such a thing." King takes the lube from Deceit, and uncaps it beneath the covers. He messily slathers it all over his hand, but is careful enough to keep as much as he can off the bed. "I just know that I love sex, and it'd be convenient for my beloved sex companion to stay prepared on my behalf." 

Deceit swings his leg over King's side, as King's slick hand dips around to Deceit's back, sliding into his crack. "Don't ever call me your 'sex companion' again." 

"Noted. Would you prefer the term 'mistress?'" 

"Would you prefer being locked out of my room?" 

King's lips plant themselves on the tip of Deceit's nose right as his fingers press against Deceit's hole, making Deceit hum and press his eyes shut as his hands grip tight to King's relaxed muscles, sinking his nails deep into King's flesh. He feels King's breath hitch at the slight pain, though Deceit doubts he can feel much of it. 

And Deceit himself gasps when King's fingers slip inside of him; King's pointer and middle finger stretch his hole open, and begin slowly scissoring him in order to make sure he's properly stretched. It's a formality Deceit only half-expects, as whether King's considerate enough to actually prep him before they have fun entirely depends on how King's feeling in that specific moment. And right now, it'd appear he's feeling like a sap. 

Fingers thrust slowly in and out of him, and though King's intentions to prep Deceit are clear, it's apparent that he's having a bit of fun himself. Deceit honestly doesn't mind, and lets himself enjoy the menial pleasure he's given. 

When a third finger is slipped into him, Deceit groans, and pushes his face into King's neck. King smells like sweet perfume and musky sweat, and it's a comforting scent. The very tips of Deceit's forked tongue presses against King's skin, to further appreciate the smell. 

King's digits push further into Deceit, grazing his prostate, which has Deceit's head falling back with a soft moan, before he's lightly pushing King's chest. 

"Get to it," he murmurs, encouraging King to stop teasing. 

King chuckles at his impatience, but his fingers slide out anyway. The extra lube is used on King's cock, paired with the rest of the bottle, which he squirts on his shaft until it's fully coated. 

With his length slathered with lube, King's hands hold Deceit's hips to pull him closer, and he lifts him slightly so that Deceit's legs are wrapped around King's body. The position is still a bit odd, as they're both on their sides, but neither of them seem too interested in moving. So they don't. 

King's cock slides between Deceit's thighs as King's hands spread his asscheeks apart. This allows his shaft to rub against Deceit's hole, and eventually push into it. 

Both of them groan in tandem as King guides Deceit's body down his shaft with his hands, leading his descent until most of his cock is buried in Deceit's hole. Then he goes still for a moment, just sliding an arm around Deceit's back, and holding him close. 

"See?" he then says, winking down at Deceit, "we ended up cuddling after all." 

Though he rolls his eyes, Deceit murmurs  "I suppose you're right." 

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right." King leans forward to kiss Deceit's lips, and though the angle is awkward, Deceit kisses back. King's hand rubs his back as he nibbles at Deceit's bottom lip, before eventually sighing happily. "I'm going to start moving now, okay?" 

"Thank god. I was starting to get bored." 

"You could never be bored when I'm around," King argues, pressing his fingers into Deceit's hips, "and claiming otherwise would simply be lying." 

"Are you calling me a liar?" 

King snickers. "Well, between the two of us, only one of us is named 'Deceit.'" 

The corners of Deceit's lips quirk into a small smile, but he still slyly responds "that's not my name, King. That's merely my function. You know this. And you know better." 

King's arrogance is reeled back into a more genuine look of endearment, as he says "I do. I do know better. But I prefer to reserve that information for only the utmost intimate of moments, as to keep that knowledge special and sacred!" 

"Is this moment not special and sacred?" 

"Any moment with you is special and sacred." King guides Deceit's body up slightly, and then pulls him back down, making Deceit moan as King's cock slides part way out of him, and then pushes right back in. 

Deceit hums, and lets his eyes briefly flutter closed. "Unless those moments end up with a capsized boat or thunderstorm, that is," he replies, and King laughs.

"Those are just as meaningful as any other instance," he insists, moving Deceit up and down again, "because I'm with you during them. Basking in your presence. And often fucking you in the ass right after!" 

Deceit's hands smack King's pecs as he tries to repress his laughter. "Jesus- for both our sakes, you should probably stop talking." 

"You're asking me to do an impossible thing." 

"Quit being so dramatic. I'll help you, if you need it." 

"Oh?" Deceit's pushed down again on King's cock, and he groans as King smugly asks "how so?" 

Leaning up slightly, Deceit presses his lips against King's own, wrapping his arms tight around King's neck. His legs firmly press around King's waist as well, hugging him close. King moans as their mouths move in tandem, letting Deceit have full control of the kiss. And Deceit is rather dominant in taking that control, biting at King's bottom lip with his sharp fang, and then licking over it sweetly. 

All while being slowly guided up and down King's shaft. The action isn't urgent; the sex isn't important. It's an afterthought; it comes second only to their snuggling. And they are woven tightly together, looking almost like one body beneath Deceit's blankets due to how close they're pressed together - quite literally linked by King's cock being stuffed into Deceit's hole. 

"Well, you have got me there." 

Deceit's grins, and begins to kiss at King's hairy chin and down his neck. He sucks a light mark against King's jugular, but that's all he does, before softly insisting "go faster, my King. I want to feel your skin go slick with sweat, and hear your breathing labor as you put your all into pleasing your favourite subject." 

"Fuck, De-... Janus. You know just how to talk me through it." 

Deceit laughs softly, though his cheeks go an unmistakable shade of deep, dark crimson, and then Deceit moans. His head falls back, and King seizes the opportunity to return the favor as he kisses and nips at Deceit's flesh, and more tenderly kisses at his scales. 

King does as Deceit asks and does quicken his pace, moving Deceit carefully so that he can still pleasure him while kissing all over his upper body. And Deceit seems pleased, moaning again, and cursing under his breath. 

And it's always such a delight to watch Deceit's calm charm fade into more vulnerable pleasure and excitement. The soft hitches of his breath and the desperate way he sinks his nails into King's body to keep himself grounded. It's all enticing and exotic, and King's kissing Deceit again once Deceit's eyelids press shut. 

"You're doing it just right," Deceit praises, voice soft. "Keep that pace, my King, it's wonderful." 

Groaning, King keeps his rhythm, though he does shift their positions once or twice, aiming for what'll make Deceit feel the absolute best. 

And he nails it after a few minutes of hard thrusting. 

When Deceit's head falls back with a loud cry, King knows he's found Deceit's prostate. Deceit's fingers press hard into his body, and King grips him back just as tight. 

"There we go," King coos, taking over Deceit's sweet-talking, "that was a good spot, wasn't it? Do you want me to hit it again, my love? Send pleasure coursing through your body with each perfect thrust of my massive cock?" 

Deceit huffs out a laugh that quickly morphs to a moan as King emphasizes his question with another jerk of his hips, indeed driving the tip of his cock into Deceit's prostate once more. So Deceit answers with "yes, yes , my King." 

"Good boy. You should never be ashamed to beg for what you want. I'm a rather gracious leader, and an even more passionate lover." 

"I can tell," Deceit breathes, pressing his face to King's neck. He pants hard against King's warm throat, feeling King's Adam's apple bob against his cheek with each swallow of spit. "It feels- it feels delightfully good." 

King's breath hitches, pleased with the praise. 

He keeps his pace - not ruthlessly fast, but not boringly slow. It's timely enough to be loving and intimate, while keeping it quick enough to be fun. 

As King starts to sweat, his perspiration rubs off on and drips onto Deceit's pale flesh and glimmering scales, covering him in King's musk. But Deceit doesn't seem to mind, as his tongue flicks out of his mouth to gather in the earthy scent, and he moans softly. He even licks a stray, rolling bead making it's way down King's jugular, and then kisses his reddened flesh after. 

"You're so warm" Deceit murmurs.

King huffs out a laugh. "You make me feel so warm. So hot. Like my body is broiling magma, rolling down wonderfully textured terrain. It lets me scathe whatever I desire, and scorch whatever amuses me, while knowing that it's landscape is what allows me to spread in the first place." 

"That's right," Deceit purrs, as King moves him up and down, overwhelming his body with heat with each stimulating shock that pulsates through his veins, as King lovingly abuses the bundle of nerves buried in him, "and don't you forget it." 

"I could hardly fathom forgetting a man as generous as you." 

Deceit laughs himself. "Generous," he echoes, in a mixture of amusement and disbelief, but King says naught. Instead, he just kisses Deceit again. 

Deceit's noises are swallowed down by King's eager mouth, kissing and pushing his soul against Deceit's lips. Deceit holds him close and keeps him there, twirling his pointer in King's long hair, which has become unruly and slicked with sweat, and now looks unkempt even in the tight ponytail it was previously pulled into. 

And Deceit is flushed with pleasure. His abdomen burns with intense arousal, and his cocks twitch and leak where they're pressed against King's hairy gut. 

"King," Deceit eventually whines, voice hushed, but he's just shushed with another kiss. 

"Don't waste your breath talking," King murmurs, sinking his teeth gently into Deceit's bottom lip, "I'd rather hear your noises than your pleading. Let me hear how good you feel. How close you are. Grant me the privilege, my beloved, and I'll grant you the privilege of being filled nicely with my come." 

 The mess is hardly a privilege, but Deceit would be lying if he claimed to not like the feeling. He could fall asleep right now with just King's cock inside of him (provided he wasn't thrusting, of course, as that felt too good to ignore), and can only shakily sigh in excitement as he thinks about King pumping a load into him, even if he doesn't express such anticipation verbally. His body, his arousal, his noises speak for him, and King can read him like a book. 

So Deceit moans, letting a majority of his gasps and pants flow right into King's awaiting ears, with only one or two being bit back out of embarrassment. King seems grateful for what he can get though, and squeezes at Deceit's rear as he continues thrusting into him. 

As Deceit's orgasm nears closer and closer, he clenches around King's cock, making King groan. He curses, though tries to keep the words muffled, fearing appearing undignified. However, his slip ups arouse Deceit further. And further. And further. 

"My King," Deceit moans, as his hips rut ever so slightly against King's front. His words are followed up with a soft cry, and then a much louder one, as King thrusts against his prostate once. Twice. Three times. Sending Deceit finally spilling over the edge, coming to King's thrusts and the feeling of his cocks being stimulated by King's chubby, hairy stomach. HIs come splatters over King's torso and his own, dripping between their bodies. It's a mess coating both of them, and one neither of them care about. 

In fact, King's more than thrilled by it. 

"Good boy," he coos, as Deceit writhes in pleasurable overstimulation, as King's thrusts become slower and sloppier. "I know I've made you feel so good. And you're making me feel just as good. My Deceit. My Janus."

And whilst moaning himself, King comes too, filing Deceit's hole full of thick streams of semen, continuing to pump him full until Deceit's stomach bulges slightly. 

Deceit moans until the feeling of being full goes from a pleasant stretch to a slight ache, which is when King finally pulls out of him. 

A decent amount of come spills out of him, soaking into the sheets below, but Deceit just shivers and presses his body close to King. King holds him close too, sliding his calloused hand up and down Deceit's back, lightly drawing shapes into Deceit's skin with his nails until Deceit's shifting and yawning. 

"Stop that," Deceit quietly insists, "you're going to put me to sleep." 

"Are you saying you don't want to drift off safely tucked into my arms?" King argues, kissing the top of Deceit's head aggressively. "It'd sure guarantee nothing go wrong. Hard to end up in a rainstorm or rocking boat if you're in a nice, deep slumber." 

Deceit snorts, and then laughs, muffling his amusement in King's chest. As he reigns himself back in, he eventually snorts out "fine. I suppose a short nap couldn't hurt..." 

King kisses him, and then squeezes him firm. "Good. We'll sleep, and once you're nice and rested, I'll make you a wonderful dinner. All your favourites. I promise."  

"And no fire?" 

Winking, King replies "there might be a little bit of fire..." 

Deceit shakes his head in playful disbelief, and then pushes his face against King's soft breasts. King curls around him, big body securely smothering Deceit's comparably small one. They lay together, covered in each other’s mess, each other’s sweat, and each other’s love. 

Chapter Text

"Virgil, wake up," Logan gently prods. He's sitting on Virgil's bed, only really half-heartedly trying to pull Virgil out of it. "It's nearly evening. If you sleep through the whole day, then you're going to be up all night. And then you're going to be stuck in a hard-to-break routine that doesn't align at all with your twenty-four-hour hormonal cycle, which means you're never going to feel motivated, and-" 

"Shh," Virgil shushes, as he grabs a pillow and weakly shoves it against Logan's chest, "I'm tired." 

"I know you're tired. But you're going to continue feeling tired unless you regulate your sleep schedule." Logan adjusts his glasses. "I can suggest some strategies towards how to start your day off with a pleasant release of endorphins that'll motivate you throughout the morning, and help you adjust your dietary habits. What you eat has a lot of influence on your fatigue, you know, and-" 

"Shh," Virgil again insists, as he rolls from his side to his back and flings his hand over onto Logan's leg. His palm pats Logan's thigh in a playfully scolding manner, but quickly becomes lazy and stops, just resting his hand there instead. "My sleep schedule is fine." 

"It's almost five." 

Virgil yawns. "That's fine. Dinner's not even done yet." 

"Yes, but dinner's being prepped. And you shouldn't be sleeping until dinner prep." Logan grabs Virgil's hand, and uses it to try and pull Virgil up. "If I didn't come to wake you, you would have slept until dinner. Perhaps even through it. Like you have been."

"That's fine," Virgil mumbles, "I just grab leftovers from the fridge whenever I'm awake."

"You should eat at the table with the rest of us. We all want you there. And the food's always better when it's fresh out of the oven, instead of being boiled in the microwave until it's soggy." Logan makes a face of disgust. "Patton's making shrimp alfredo tonight. You love alfredo."

"I do love alfredo."

"Then come eat."

Virgil makes a noise of disdain, and tries to roll over again. "I also love sleeping. And I'm still tired. Let me at least keep napping until dinner's actually ready."

"No. You should get up now. Come on." Logan stands, and pulls Virgil up with him. Virgil whines as he's forced to sit up in bed, and his eyes flutter open. He gives Logan a look of utter betrayal, before suddenly gripping Logan's wrist with both hands and using the weight of him falling back onto his back to tug Logan down with him.

Logan's knocked off balance and falls back onto the bed, and directly onto Virgil's front thanks to Virgil's tugging. And before Logan can even try to get up again and scold Virgil for behaving childishly, Virgil's rolling over, pinning Logan beneath his pudgy body as he cuddles close to him.

"Now what're you going to do?" Virgil asks, voice low. It's a mix of smug and tired. "You can't move. I forbid it."

"I definitely can move," Logan insists, with a huff. "If I really wanted to, I can shove you off of me."

"You won't."

Logan frowns, but doesn't argue, because Virgil's right. Not only does the pressure from Virgil laying atop him feel nice, but Logan's also not the type to push Virgil away when Virgil decides to show such outward affection. Even if this affection was solely a ploy to stay in bed longer.

"We can't stay in bed forever though, Virgil. You know Patton may need my help actually cooking supper. He really shouldn't be in the kitchen unsupervised, considering what happened to the oven last time Patton tried to follow a recipe."

Virgil's lips hover over Logan's cheek, making Logan flush instinctively. "Roman could always help him. You can stay here with me."

"And let Patton mix up the 1/4th and 1/8th measuring cups? Do you want to eat dry pasta?"

"I want to eat you."

Though his cheeks go pink, Logan sighs. "Well, I'd advise you against partaking in cannibalism, especially so close to suppertime. You'll spoil your dinner."

Virgil laughs, and then his lips near Logan's own. Logan can't help but go completely still as their mouths brush together, going so far as to hold his breath as to not potentially scare Virgil away. "You don't make it easy for me to resist," Virgil mutters playfully, "with how cute you are. Especially when you're bothering me. It makes me want to do nothing more than, well, pin you down and persuade you to listen to me."

"And just how would you persuade me to stay? To let you sleep a little bit longer?"

Grinning immediately, Virgil clearly has an idea in mind, and when he rolls his hips down against Logan's, Logan is filled with the urge to hide his face in his hands. Instead, he wraps his hands around Virgil's body, and sinks the pads of his fingers into Virgil's back.

"Ah," Logan starts, clearing his throat, "I see."

"What do you think, Logan?" Virgil asks, twirling one of his fingers in Logan's hair. "How many orgasms do you think it'll take to get you on my side. Two? Three?" Virgil rolls his hips down again, harder this time, and watches as Logan's teeth sink into his bottom lip. "How many do you think it'll take to get you to nap with me? Five? Six?"

"Factoring in my refractory period, I highly doubt you'll be able to get in six orgasms before dinner's done," Logan stammers.

Virgil snickers, and shakes his head. "Factoring in your sensitivity-" Virgil counters, in a teasing manner, "-I'm sure we could double that number and still have downtime before alfredo is done. Not that I'll stop until we're forced to... or until you eventually relent and let me go back to sleep."

Logan sucks in a deep breath, and holds that air in his cheeks as he looks away, as if weighing the options. Though, they both know Virgil's had him convinced to stay from the moment he pulled Logan back onto the bed, and decided to lay atop his body. "Okay," Logan eventually says, already feeling constrained as his hardening cock pushes against his tight jeans. "If you can convince me to let you stay, then I guess you can sleep until dinner. Though, you've set my expectations rather high."

"That's no problem," Virgil replies, already adjusting his position so that his clothed cock rubs down firmly against Logan's growing bulge, "I've been wanting to see how many times I could make you finish anyway. You're just so cute when you come so fast, and the more I make you come, the faster you climax. This'll actually be weighted in my favor."

"I can't argue there," Logan mumbles, before whimpering as Virgil grinds down harder against him.

Virgil stays laying atop Logan, moving purposefully yet lazily. He's not doing everything he could be doing to work Logan up quick, but Logan's being worked up quickly anyway. And with Virgil on top of him and the thick blankets around them, Logan can already feel himself starting to sweat.

"If you lift your hips for a moment, I can get my jeans off," Logan suggests, through breathy pants. "That might make your job even easier."

"This is already easy," Virgil insists, "and I'd much prefer you make a mess of yourself first. It's more fun for me that way. And it's more motivation for you to stay in here with me because it's not like you have a change of clothes in here that you could potentially grab and wear into the kitchen." 

"Ah. So you're meticulously planning out your victory," Logan comments, before biting back a moan as Virgil again rubs his front against his. "You're developing strategies that'll help secure your goal."

Virgil chuckles. "Sure. I'm definitely not just humping you because I think the idea of you making a mess in your clothes is fucking hot."

Logan goes dark red in the face, and eventually ends up just wrapping his arms around Virgil's neck in order to pull him close and keep him there, as well as using their closeness to hide his face against Virgil's warm throat. Virgil smiles at the action, but says nothing about it, instead enjoying the intimacy as he licks his lips and pushes himself down against Logan much harder.

His actions are slow, but no less stimulating, as Logan remains completely aroused and increasingly breathless as Virgil moves. It's nothing intense yet - and Logan doubts that with how exhausted Virgil seems to be it'll ever be properly intense - but everything is extreme to someone as pathetically sensitive as Logan. Virgil's hardly been sliding against him for five minutes total, and Logan already feels his cock twitching and leaking. And he feels so excessively hot that he's honestly nervous he might orgasm far sooner than even Virgil expects!

"I was hoping you'd be the one to come wake me for dinner," Virgil eventually says, voice husky in Logan's ear. He pants softly as the action of actually moving atop Logan quickly tires him out further than he already was. "I guess you could call me a pervert or something, but I get excited every time you're in my room, because I think about how lucky I am to get you in my bed, and how pretty you look once you're manhandled there. I love watching you walk in all composed and poise, and lose yourself within minutes beneath my hands." Virgil presses his face against Logan's jaw, kissing at his upper neck. "That sounds egotistical, huh? I'm not trying to be; I'm completely serious. The idea of you drives me incredibly crazy..."

Well, Virgil feeling Logan up drives Logan crazy, but he doesn't have to say that, as the embarrassingly loud moan he lets out is telling enough.

Virgil doesn't mock his enjoyment, nor does he currently comment on Logan's enjoyment, as he instead just continues to kiss down Logan's neck as he feels Logan's hips jerk continuously upwards. The rate at which Logan's front rubs and rolls in tandem with Virgil's is excessive, but Logan already looks like he's overwhelmed with ecstasy. And all it takes is a few more rough humps from Virgil to cause Logan's back to raise off the bed, and arch upwards against Virgil's chest. Virgil holds Logan tighter as Logan comes, murmuring "already?" and "you're so cute," into Logan's ear as Logan gasps and moans throughout his orgasm, as Virgil continues to slowly guide his hips in circles against Logan's bulge until Logan's whining and squeezing Virgil's shoulders.

It's only then that Virgil stops momentarily and enjoys the sound of Logan catching his breath, panting hard as he slings an arm over his face to hide how flustered he is. It doesn't hide the drool pooling in the corner of his mouth, however.

"Now you have a reason to get those pants off," Virgil says, as he scoots down Logan's thighs, hooking his thumbs in Logan's waistbands to drag Logan's jeans down with him.

"There was a reason beforehand," Logan utters in response, "you just didn't deem it good enough."

"That's fair. I was right in making you wait though." Logan's pants are tossed to the floor, and Virgil is circling Logan's cock with his pointer finger through his boxers, specifically tracing the damp circle made by Logan's semen. "Because if I didn't I would have missed this sight."

Logan looks down at his underwear. "The sight of my damp boxers?"

"The sight of a messy Logan." Virgil chuckles. "It's not every day I see you end up... disheveled. Or messy." 

Virgil's fingers slowly slip into Logan's boxers, and pull them down too.

"So it's always extra special when a moment like this occurs," Virgil finishes, as Logan's boxers join his pants on the floor. Logan does Virgil a favor and gets rid of his shirt too, which Virgil says nothing about, but smiles at.

Then, Virgil's settling his weight back on his calves as he tugs down his pajama pants and underwear just low enough for his hard cock to spring out. Logan stares openly at it, before he makes himself look away. His fingers dig excitedly into the mattress beneath him as Virgil settles fully between Logan's thighs, encouraging Logan to wrap his legs around his waist. When Logan does, Virgil then resumes his position leaning over him, and pushes their shafts together. 

Logan moans immediately, as his limp cock is stimulated by Virgil's hard one. He spends the first few seconds just writhing in overstimulation, but quickly feels himself getting worked up all over again, just like Virgil wants him to. As Virgil tangles his fingers in Logan's hair, Logan leans his head back into the touch, rolling his hips upward as Virgil grinds his own back down.

"Honestly, I'd be surprised if you don't end up outright passing out before I'm done with you," Virgil teases, as he feels sweat from Logan's head dampen his hand. "We still have some time before dinner, don't we? I might just keep you coming until somebody comes to bother us."

"I thought you said you were tired," Logan weakly whines, already finding it hard to keep his composure. "We can't exactly nap when you're satisfying sexual urges. That's a rather active activity."

"We can nap after. We can sleep through dinner."

Logan opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by a cry escaping his throat before he can stop it when Virgil wraps his fingers around his and Logan's shafts, pushing their naked cocks together. Virgil's slides easily against Logan's thanks to the come slathered around it, and Virgil's fist moves easily up and down their lengths. "Nutrition is- is important," Logan tries to insist, but he's just kissed by Virgil to shut him up, which works like a charm.

"I wonder how many orgasms it'll take before you can't speak anymore," Virgil whispers, ignoring Logan's declaration as his lips graze Logan's own sensitive pair. With each kiss Virgil sleepily presses to his mouth, Logan feels an intense wave of pleasure shoot down from his head to the tip of his cock, causing small beads of pre to escape his slit. Each drop is gathered up by Virgil's thumb and further smeared back down Logan's shaft, as pleasure is massaged out of both of them by Virgil's experienced hand. Virgil's free fingers move to grope Logan's bare chest, which has Logan moaning loudly as his breast is squeezed firmly, and then rubbed tenderly by the pads of Virgil's fingers.

Though Virgil's hand starts by merely groping, he quickly focuses his attention on Logan's areola, using his pointer and his thumb to roll Logan's sensitive nipple between his fingers, causing Logan to moan and his hips to jerk.

"Virgil!" Logan cries, his glasses askew on his face. Virgil's hand squeezes tighter around their cocks, making Virgil groan under his breath as Logan turns his head to the side to try and bury his sweaty face in the mattress.

Virgil can tell Logan's close already, and it makes him grin. He knows that after Logan's first orgasm each consecutive one is bound to come quicker and quicker, but this quick is both incredibly pathetic, and undoubtedly cute. Which is something he's quick to whisper against Logan's lips. "Your noises are so attractive," Virgil mutters, before gently biting Logan's bottom lip. He pinches Logan's nipple at the same time, and simultaneously squeezes their cocks roughly together. "It's like white noise. I wouldn't mind hearing it as background noise every minute of every day..."

"I'm- I-"

Virgil kisses Logan before he can say whatever he needs to say (though Virgil has a pretty good guess on what Logan was trying to state), and as he nibbles gently on Logan's top lip, Logan trembles beneath him and comes again.

Logan's moan is quickly swallowed up by Virgil's eager mouth as he kisses Logan deeper, squeezing the base of their cocks in tandem as Logan's shaft lets out a few pathetic spurts of semen that are hardly noticeable as they melt into the previous mess still glistening against Logan's groin, and then Virgil feels Logan's cock go limp once more, as it lays discarded against Logan's pelvis when Virgil temporarily lets it go.

With his fingers, Virgil scoops up Logan's climax, and shows it off as he rubs it between his fingers. "Enjoying yourself?" 

Though Virgil asks partially to tease Logan, his subconscious desire for assurance has Logan instinctually answering "yes. Very... very much so." He speaks through labored breaths, as he struggles to get in enough air to compensate for how much he's losing with each moan he lets out. Virgil smiles at Logan's words, and kisses Logan again, before Virgil shifts his grip around their cocks and begins stroking them together once more.

Moaning loudly, Logan's back arches off the bed and against Virgil's chest, with Virgil pressing down harder against him in turn, keeping their bodies close.

"It's too much," Logan gasps, but Virgil just hums in response as he tucks his head in Logan's neck.

"Is it too much?" Virgil repeats, groaning softly into Logan's ear. "Or can you do... one more. Maybe two. Can't you, Logan?" Virgil kisses Logan's throat, and then yawns against him. His eyes stay closed for longer than they should, and his body aches with sleepiness. Logan seems to sense this, as he wraps his arms around Virgil's shoulders and squeezes him briefly.

"I fear if I refuse you might fall asleep atop me," Logan murmurs, making Virgil laugh quietly.

As his hand slows around their cocks, Virgil quietly asks "does that mean you want me to stop?" though he doesn't plan to completely stop unless Logan asks him to.

Logan flushes dark, and turns his head away. When he tries to speak louder than a whisper, his voice quakes, dripping with weak sensitivity as Virgil continues to stimulate him through his refractory period, and begins to slowly work him up again. Logan swallows the spit in his mouth, and shakes his head. "No. You... you know I don't."

Chuckling, Virgil kisses up Logan's jaw. "I know. It's just reassuring to hear you admit that."

Virgil's body weight pins Logan to the mattress as he fully relaxes against him. Initially he lets his fist stay pressed between his and Logan's soft stomachs as he rubs their cocks, but eventually releases them and decides to just hump. Logan moans at the lazy pace Virgil sets, somehow finding it both teasingly slow and overwhelmingly intense. His cock is worked back up to hardness a third time, and tears finally fill Logan's eyes and roll down his cheeks as he feels such an fierce amount of heat and pleasure creep through his body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Aw," Virgil breathes, voice so hushed Logan's not at first whether or not Virgil's actually said anything, "I was waiting for you to cry. Fuck, Logan, you..." Virgil trails off, and brings his knuckles to his mouth, moaning against his hand. "You get me so worked up. It's embarrassing the amount of lust you make me feel."

"Virgil," Logan cries, voice cracking, "it's so much."

He already feels close after seconds of having his cock rubbed by Virgil's. The weight crushing his shaft and pressing down on his body doesn't help much either, as Logan only finds those things more attractive. And his growing sensitivity with each climax he's brought to just leads to quicker and quicker orgasms.

"Go ahead and come again," Virgil moans. When Logan catches a glimpse of Virgil's face, he sees Virgil's bangs are slick with sweat and sticking to his forehead. His smudged eyeshadow - which had already been messed up by pushing his face into his pillows while he slept - has further smeared down his face from the droplets of sweat that are rolling down his jawline, and has stained his cheeks and chin with grey clouds. Logan reaches a shaky thumb up to wipe away a bit of the makeup, which has Virgil grabbing Logan's hand and kissing it, before moaning into Logan's palm as he humps faster, bringing them both much more pleasure. And it's too much, in Logan's case, as he comes a third time.

Unlike the first two times, this time no orgasm comes spilling out of him. Not even a few underwhelming drops. He's left completely dry, but his cock still twitches and Logan still sobs as his body shakes with ecstasy as pleasure seems to completely consume him. More tears roll down his face, but Virgil just kisses them away, no doubt further aroused by seeing Logan cheeks slick with tears.

"One more," Virgil breathes, his voice dripping with enjoyment of his own, "one more, and then we can nap together. Doesn't resting sound so good right now? Getting to slip into blissful sleep after such tiring orgasms?"

"Yes," Logan cries, as Virgil continues grinding against him. Logan's abused cock is worked up a final time, stiffening as soon as it's able to thanks to Virgil's persistent frotting. "Please, Virgil. You've proven your point; I-"

Virgil kisses him before he can continue, and all of Logan's works turn into slurred, unintelligible speech. His brain seems to have melted down in his balls and shot out of his cock, much to Virgil's delight. "You feel so good," Virgil praises, as his hips speed up. His grinding becomes sloppy and lewd as he nears his orgasm too. Virgil feels just as hot as Logan, swarmed with warmth and dripping with sweat as their bodies slide together. "Come again, Logan. I know you want to. I know you're already close again."

Logan doesn't even have the mind to be embarrassed about that factual observation, and instead just lets himself let go. He comes again - just as dry and pathetically as the first time - with a soft sob being all he has the energy left to express.

Uttering a curse, Virgil rubs his cock even harder against Logan's, huffing out a mixture of praise and profanities as his climax builds and builds, until he finally reaches that edge and spills over it. Unlike Logan's orgasm - which spared not even a drop of semen - Virgil's orgasm comes out in thick spurts, slicking the space between their stomachs with seed, and making Logan choke out a final cry as Virgil humps throughout his orgasm, before finally raising his hips, and falling to the side. He lays beside Logan on the mattress, breathing hard, and letting his eyes finally press shut and stay that way as he catches his breath. Logan doesn't even try to move beside him, doing the same thing.

It's only when they hear a sudden knock on the door that they both shoot up, before Logan immediately experiences a bout of vertigo and groans as he lays back down.

"You've tired me out," he mumbles, as he slides his glasses off the bed.

Virgil smiles at him, and pulls the blankets around their messy figures. "We'll eat later," Virgil calls through the door, hoping whoever's on the other side is at least polite enough not to barge inside and see their... aftermath. "Thanks, though."

Footsteps recede, as whoever knocked is seemingly satisfied with the answer, leaving Virgil to immediately pull Logan close to him.

"Finally!" Virgil cheers, though he keeps his voice quiet enough not to disturb Logan, who lets Virgil hold him tight. "Now, we can have a nice, long, uninterrupted nap. And when we wake up, I'll reheat some leftovers for us. How does that sound?"

But Logan doesn't answer, already having passed out from sheer exhaustion. Virgil can't help but grin, as he kisses Logan's forehead, and then shamelessly gets comfortable against both Logan and his pillows, falling back asleep rather quickly as well, and sleeping deep for the next few hours.

Chapter Text

"I didn't expect you to actually have muscle under those clothes," Remy comments, before loudly sipping the remnants of that morning's coffee up through a straw. The cheap, plastic cup was visibly empty, but Remy strived to make as much noise as possible while stirring his straw through the half-melted ice. His sunglasses are partially down the bridge of his nose, but he quickly takes them off fully, folds the legs, and tucks them into the collar of his shirt. "The way you dress would imply you're nothing but a beanpole."

Virgil nearly drops the weights he's holding, and whips towards Remy with a half-irritated, half-flustered expression. "Working out releases dopamine, or whatever," he mutters in reply. "It became a habit after Roman and Logan pushed me to try. The muscles were just a natural byproduct."

"Do you just do arm workouts? Or does your daily dose of building that body extend beneath your shirt, too."

The shorts and tee Virgil was wearing were abnormal compared to his usual wear, but they were both still loose. This revealed his muscular arms and calves, but still kept his core hidden. He was lean enough to look exactly as Remy described when fully donned in a thick hoodie and jeans, but without them Virgil was sure Remy could make an educated guess.

"What do you think?" comes Virgil's instinctive snarky response, but when Remy just raises an eyebrow and steps further into the room - setting his empty cup on the stack of weights near the doorway - Virgil quickly stammers out more clarifying "of course I work out the rest of my body. Different workouts for different parts, obviously, but it'd be odd to just focus on my arms or my legs. They'd very quickly end up disproportionate to the rest of me."

"They already look disproportionate to the rest of you," Remy remarks. "I think it might look a little more natural if I could see your chest bare." Remy shamelessly lets his head tilt down a bit, gaze starting at the waistband of Virgil's shorts and traveling upwards slowly, before fixating on where Virgil's pecs would be. "Yeah," he declares, nodding his head proudly, "it'd look a lot more proportionate if I could fully appreciate your proportions."

"Ugh," Virgil groans, "don't you have anyone else to bother?"

"I'm not a bother, babe, I'm a blessing. And currently the only interesting thing around here worthy of my attention is you and those abs you may or may not have." Remy shamelessly settles himself directly in front of Virgil, so that his presence is unavoidable. "Just let me take a peek, and I'll be out of your hair."

Scoffing, Virgil retorts "we both know that's not true," but he finds himself not necessarily upset by Remy's curiosity.

It's not that his other friends hadn't noticed his muscles - occasionally he has to pull the sleeves of his jacket up, and his forearms are muscular themselves - but they don't focus on it. Not like Remy's currently focusing on it. In fact, the attention is rather flattering in its own odd way, as Virgil doubts Remy would be paying this much attention to him if not for the muscles he's suspected to have.

So, with a sigh, Virgil sets his weights down at his legs. "Fine, you can see. But I'm not doing this for you; I'm doing it because it's getting hot in here."

Remy bites his bottom lip. "You know the solution for rooms getting stuffy is to take off all your clothes..."

Virgil shakes his head as he brings himself to his feet. "Don't push it."

Remy takes a step back to give Virgil the space to slide his hands beneath his shirt and slowly guide it off his body. The moment it's halfway up, Remy is quick to invade Virgil's personal space, setting his hands on Virgil's core and sliding them up to Virgil's chest the moment his shirt is completely discarded.

"Remy," Virgil scolds, but Remy just looks up at Virgil with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What?" Remy asks, with faux innocence. "You put a delicious, double-baked breakfast croissant in front of me and expect me not to want a taste?"

Face red, Virgil insists "I expect you to be able to control yourself."

Snickering, Remy jests "well, why would you think that?" before finally backing up when Virgil pushes him to - though by push, it really is Virgil's hands setting themselves on Remy's shoulders and firmly guiding him away. Remy doesn't think he could fight the force if he tried!

Virgil moves himself around the small workout room, navigating from the simple chair he was on to a pull-up bar. He has to jump to reach it, as Roman's taller than he is and he seemingly was using this space last, but that's not a problem. It's not like Virgil's feet need to touch the ground in order to lift his body above the bar. He hangs there for a moment, watching as Remy pulls over the chair Virgil was previously seated on and sits on it himself. He even crosses his legs over each other and leans back, making himself comfortable.

"What are you doing?" Virgil asks, whilst adjusting his grip on the bars.

Remy's answer is immediate. "Enjoying the show," he claims, before smiling when Virgil does his first pull up. "How many reps are you doing?"

"Three sets with ten reps each," Virgil answers.

Remy grimaces. "That's a lot. I thought pull-ups were like... super difficult."

"They are if you don't have any training." Virgil pulls himself up a second time, holding his chin above the bar for a few seconds before slowly lowering himself back down. "You're basically lifting up your entire body using just your arms. That's a couple hundred pounds being moved per rep."

"Most workouts involve lifting hundreds of pounds," Remy counters. "Like push-ups."

Virgil exhales as he comes down from his third rep, and then sucks in a sharp breath as he lifts himself up again. "Those are different. Most workouts are different from each other. But push-ups give a little support from your feet, so your entire weight isn't resting on your arms." His arms shake a bit during his next descent. "Now stop talking to me; replying wastes valuable air."

"Maybe I want to waste your 'valuable air,'" Remy teases. "You sound hot when you're breathing all hard and heavy."

Virgil drops off the bar only halfway through his set. His forehead glistens with fresh sweat that he wipes away with the back of his hand. "Remy," Virgil starts, with a heavy sigh, "you're distracting me."

"You're distracting me!" Remy argues, sounding more than offended. "How am I supposed to look at you and think of anything other than how strong you are! And how hot that strength is!" Remy knocks the chair off its legs in his rush to stand up. His manicured hands run obsessively over Virgil's arms. "I think you could effortlessly carry me around with those," he claims, tracing his finger along Virgil's defined bicep. "Even with just one arm, I bet it'd be a breeze."

Flushing, Virgil grabs Remy's wrists. "Are you trying to goad me into picking you up?"

Remy smiles prettily. "Is it working? I bet you can do a lot of things with arms like those... Things that would easily have well-groomed men like me falling over ourselves."

At first, Virgil's expression is unreadable as he considers Remy's words, but very quickly a small smile works its way onto Virgil's face as he slings his arms around Remy's waist and suddenly lifts him without warning.

Remy is left scrambling to hurry and wrap his legs around Virgil's midsection as Virgil adjusts his position slightly, getting Remy's rear settled in the crook of his elbow, leaving his other arm completely free. Though Remy holds tight to Virgil out of sheer surprise, there's really no need to, as Virgil's hold on Remy is incredibly secure. There's no tremble in his arms, and no strain in keeping him up.

Virgil himself can't help but look a little proud. "You're right," he affirms, "this is easy."

It takes Remy a second to gather his bearings, but once his mind has stopped swimming with excitement, he's absolutely swooning and rubbing his hands over Virgil's collarbones. But before Remy can even appreciate Virgil's body while this close, he's being carried near the treadmill.

"I'll show you what I can really do, since you're so curious," Virgil states, as he steps up onto the machine. It's not on, obviously, but he doesn't look like he wants it to be. Instead, he reaches into the cup holder attached to the treadmill's console and fishes out a readily available bottle of lubricant.

Remy can't help the blush that spreads across his face. His eyes flicker to the bottle, and then to Virgil. "You keep lube in the workout room?" Remy asks, his amusement palpable. "Or is that Roman who's getting freaky in here?"

"Nobody gets 'freaky' in here," Virgil mutters, "until now, I suppose."

"Then what's with the lube?"

Virgil waves the bottle in Remy's face. "It's treadmill lube. Used to decrease friction between the belt and the deck, so that the belt can keep traveling smoothly cycle by cycle. But it's silicone based, which means it's perfectly safe to use on a person. Or, I guess in a person."

Virgil changes Remy's position swiftly, and Remy feels the wind knocked out of his lungs as his back ends up on the treadmill's console.

"Get comfy while I stretch you open."

Eyes wide with excitement, Remy stammers out "really? You're actually going to have sex with me in here?" He's practically drooling as he speaks. "No showering beforehand, no changing out of your shorts, just right here, right now?"

Raising an eyebrow, Virgil inquires "that's what you wanted, right?" while opening up the bottle of lubricant.

"Hell yeah!" Remy assures him, hands grasping the treadmill's arm rails solely to further support himself, even though Virgil's hand lifting his hip is steady enough. "I can't wait to feel just how strong you are. And don't bother being gentle with me; you know I like to play rough. Just-" Remy swats at Virgil's hand as Virgil starts to unbutton his jeans "-careful with my clothing. My entire fit probably cost more than this entire machine."

Though Virgil rolls his eyes, he does actually oblige by Remy's words, and with one hand manages to get Remy's pants off his legs without pulling too hard or potentially ripping the seams, though he does dismissively drop the fabric to the floor afterwards with little care, along with Remy's boxers. Getting Remy's shirt off is unnecessary, but Virgil does it because Remy lets him. He slides his hand beneath Remy's shirt and up to his upper back in order to lift Remy off the treadmill slightly so he can get Remy's black jacket off and his shirt pulled over his head in a matter of seconds. Remy's sunglasses clatter as they fall against the floor.

Then, Remy's foot slides against the waistband of Virgil's shorts. "Your turn," he sings, voice smug, but Virgil just hums.

"Not yet. We should get you prepped first."

"Aw," Remy pouts dramatically, "you're not even going to give me a hot visual while I'm being fingered?"

Virgil uncaps the bottle of lube, and pours some on his fingers. "You have my chest that you begged to see. Just look at that."

"I'm greedy, Virgil. You can't expect me to just be satisfied with one part of your body when your whole figure is just a pair of pants away!"

As Virgil's lubed hands slide between Remy's cheeks, Virgil comments "I'm starting to think I shouldn't expect anything of you. Anything other than being perverse, at least." His pointer and middle press against Remy's hole, teasingly threatening to slip inside at a moment's notice.

Remy huffs. "I'm not perverse. I'm a man of taste. And you look like you taste good."

Virgil doesn't bother dignifying Remy's flirty remark with anything other than a blush and an unamused look, before finally sinking his fingers into Remy. Remy's head falls back against the treadmill console immediately, groaning as one of his hands comes to rest above his head, and the other further digs into the handrails.

"Even your fingers feel muscular," Remy pants, as Virgil's digits slowly stretch him open. "Did they thicken up or something after you started lifting weights? Oh!" Remy lifts his head in excitement. "Did your cock?"

"Geez," Virgil breathes, shaking his head. "You'll see in a bit, I guess. Though I wouldn't get your expectations too high."

"Too late," Remy moans. "You've already exceeded my presumptions thus far. Hotter chest, hotter arms, hotter fingers. I can almost guarantee you'll pull down your pants and I'll be more than pleased with what I see!"

Virgil adds a third finger, continuing to scissor open Remy's hole. His movements are slow and careful, but he still works to pleasure Remy, even if doing so subtly. His fingers push into Remy, and slide out, never going that far in, but pressing in just enough to be noticeable, and to make Remy's cock twitch in excitement.

A fourth finger is added as a courtesy, as Remy's words have Virgil extra careful about whether or not his cock has actually grown, as that's not something he's ever particularly paid attention to (and so doesn't even know if it's a possible perk of working out), but it doesn't hurt to prepare for it just in case. And Remy doesn't seem to be complaining, as his eyelids are pressed lightly shut and his eyebrows are creased in pleasure, as he leisurely soaks in the fruits of Virgil's labor.

It's only when Virgil pulls his fingers out that Remy whines.

"Shush," Virgil scolds him, but his voice is a lot more soft than stern, "you're getting something better."

"Hell yeah I am," Remy gleefully sighs. "But this stupid headboard thing is hurting my neck. Lift me off it?"

"You just want me to hold you up."

"So what if I do?"

Virgil supposes he should have expected that response, and so says "let me get myself lubed up before my hands are too busy with your body to do so," while already wiggling his shorts down his thighs.

Remy doesn't argue - which is a surprise to Virgil considering his track record - and instead watches with open interest as Virgil's cock is finally freed from the confines of his pants and boxers.

Virgil kicks his own clothing to the side with a lot less care than he did Remy's, and pours a bit more lube onto his hand so he can slick himself up. Virgil can basically feel Remy's excitement as he watches Virgil's hand pump the length of his shaft, smearing lubricant over every centimeter until he's glistening with it. When he's confident he's lubed enough, he finally does as Remy requested and loops his hand around Remy's back and pulls him off the treadmill's console. Their new position requires Virgil to use both hands to get the best angle possible to slowly begin to guide his cock inside Remy, but Remy pays that no mind as his face is pressed against Virgil's chest. Virgil's a lot firmer than Remy expected - probably since he's still quite lean despite his toned body - but it's the sweat that Remy's mind immediately locks on to.

The stuffiness from the room (that has little circulation already), paired with the fact Virgil's already been working out means he's quite musky, and that's a fact Remy basks in as his face rubs between Virgil's pecs.

While Remy selfishly enjoys himself, Virgil's shaft slides deeper into Remy until most of it is settled inside. Then, he loosens his grip a bit, and his hands settle more casually on Remy's hips.

"Enjoying yourself?" Virgil teases, and Remy's quick to nod, sliding his face further up and down Virgil's cleavage.

Virgil wants to roll his eyes at Remy's open enjoyment, but he can't bring himself to due to his own eagerness. Remy was continuing to both flatter and fluster him with even his more depraved actions, but it felt good to be desired so much. And Remy's ass clenching around his cock felt just as good, if not better.

Besides, it's not like this was really stopping him from working out. Moving Remy up and down would be a workout in itself!

After a moment of making sure that they're in a position Virgil won't go falling over in, and double checking his hold on Remy is secure, Virgil asks "you ready?" as a courtesy, even though Remy hardly needs to be asked if he's good to go.

Pulling his face just a few centimeters away from Virgil's chest, he moans out a happy "yes," with his pretty, painted nails already digging into Virgil's back in anticipation. His fingers are dragged up Virgil's spine as Virgil lifts him halfway off his cock, and then they slide roughly back down when Remy himself is slammed back down onto Virgil's shaft with enough force to make Remy cry out.

"Fuck," Remy pants, "are you sure you've never fucked anyone in here before? You seem too good at sex standing up for this to be your first time."

"It's not that different from normal sex," Virgil insists. "Just a different position is all. A bit more strenuous on the arms, and a bit less hip motion. If anything, I think I might prefer this to the traditional way. After all, I have a built-in muffler for when you get particularly annoying."

"Shame you'll never get to use it," Remy tries to playfully reply, but all he gets in response is his face shoved back into Virgil's chest, where Remy is happy to stay.

Lube squelches around Virgil's cock as the excess drips carelessly onto the treadmill track beneath Virgil's feet. Remy's soles press into the back of Virgil's thighs as he's repeatedly lifted up and brought down. At first the movements are consistent and smooth, albeit slow between descents, as though Virgil is trying to keep things rhythmic. It's almost as though he's treating this entirely like a workout, and counting the reps in his head instead of focusing on this fully as a sexual act. Though, if Virgil did focus on it as solely a sexual act, he might end up a lot more embarrassed than anything, so he keeps rationalizing his desire by claiming it's still exercise.

Eventually though, his arms start to shake a bit.

Remy gasps as he forces his head away from Virgil's torso. "Don't tell me a big, strong man like you is getting tuckered out already," he starts, voice filled with faux concern.

Virgil bites his bottom lip hard. "I'm not," he lies through his teeth, but there's no way to stop the slight tremble in his forearms.

Remy clearly doesn't believe him, but he slides his hands through Virgil's sweaty bangs and responds "good, because I figured we were just getting started. I mean, you haven't even found my prostate yet-"

As he speaks, Virgil drops him down with more intensity than he has previously, and just so happens to nail Remy's prostate with that action. Remy's forced to eat his words and moan instead as the tip of Virgil's cock thrusts hard against the bundle of nerves, causing Remy's pre to smear over Virgil's chest. His head falls back with pleasure as obscenities spill from his lips, and his legs squeeze tighter around Virgil's waist. This action causes his cock to become somewhat smushed, and that friction is tantalizing.

"Still think I'm getting tired?" Virgil grits into Remy's ear, as he leans over slightly, holding Remy parallel to the ground as he moves Remy back and forth on his cock, as though he's nothing but a toy Virgil's using in the privacy of his room. The sweat from his face and chest roll down his body and drip onto Remy's, leaving glistening splashes against his skin that only mix in with Remy's precome.

Virgil leaves no room for Remy to even try and insist Virgil's losing his stride, as Virgil fucks into him with little restraint.

His grip is so tight that red marks are left in his wake whenever he shifts his fingers slightly, at first holding Remy by his waist, then his thighs, and then back to his waist. At some point, Virgil manages to get a solid one-handed hold that leaves Remy pleasantly feeling like he'll fall at any given moment while also feeling assured that he's not going anywhere aside from on and off Virgil's cock, which is leaking inside of him. Virgil's other hand holds to one of the treadmill's handrails, which he uses to give himself a bit more power to his thrusts. Despite this alteration of their positions, Virgil doesn't miss Remy's prostate once, and continues abusing it with repeated jerks of his hips.

It's only when Remy's orgasm comes crashing into him does Virgil falter slightly, as Remy grabs his wrist with both hands and cries out in sheer ecstasy. His head falls back with bliss as his climax washes over him in pleasant waves, before he lets his head continue to hang back while he tries to catch his breath.

"Holy shit babe," Remy gasps out, as he uses his grip on Virgil's arm to pull himself semi-upright. "That was one hell of an orgasm! I'll be sleeping well tonight after that." Remy licks his lips, and then teasingly brushes some of Virgil's hair behind his ear in order to meet Virgil's eyes. "You'll have to join me in bed. Consider it a reward for treating me so well."

Virgil holds Remy still for a moment, before suddenly pulling halfway out and slamming his hips back in, startling Remy who lets out a sharp moan of overstimulation.

"What makes you think we're done?" Virgil asks, voice low. "I mean... I did promise to show you what I could really do, and I could stand to go another round. And you'd be better off staying and helping; it's kind of pathetic of you to just come and go, after all."

Remy snorts, but playfully twirls his hair with his finger. "If you want me to stay, you can just say so."

"I want you to get what you were promised," Virgil scoffs. "Nothing more, nothing less."

And that more comes in the form of another rough jerk of Virgil's hips being thrust against Remy, who's brief banter break had only been permitted to account for his refractory period. And now that Virgil can see Remy's cock twitching with interest and slowly hardening again, he was more than ready to get right back into it. With the way Remy moans and smiles, Virgil can only guess Remy's eager to get things started back up, too.

But that doesn't mean things will remain like this, as suddenly Virgil pulls Remy's body all the way off his cock, flips him over, and then thrusts back into him with no warning, leaving Remy's mind spinning at just how fast things are moving and how quickly he ends up with his back pressed against Virgil's chest. Now, Virgil uses a hand lightly pressed to Remy's throat to keep him steady, but doesn't apply any pressure. It just sits there, fingers holding the sides of Remy's neck while Virgil's other hand continues to grope Remy's hip, causing Remy's eyes to roll back into his head with delight.

"Fuck, Virgil!" Remy cries, though he barely has the awareness to get the words out with how overwhelmingly hot his body feels. He's still trying to process his first orgasm, and now he can feel a second fast approaching him, as his sensitive cock swells with arousal. "Strong and confident? I'm-" Remy has to stop for a moment to bite back a moan, "-I'm loving this whole new you!"

"It's still the same old me," Virgil huffs in response, his breath hot against Remy's earlobe, making Remy shiver. "Just more easily able to... indulge you, I suppose. Though that's not why I started working out."

Remy grins, and breathily responds "sure it's not. Even though this body of yours is hella hot, and this gruff attitude is hella hot, and-"

Virgil lets go of Remy and Remy yelps as he feels himself falling, though he's quickly caught once he's horizontal once more, with Virgil having adjusted his grip. When Remy turns to look at Virgil over his shoulder, Virgil gives him a knowing, smug smile that causes Remy's abdomen to swell with warmth.

Virgil continues his thrusts into Remy's hole, while Remy leaks a few meager drops of pre onto the treadmill below, though the splatter quickly soaks into the machine's belt. Virgil himself begins to get noisier too, and his hold on Remy goes from just being a means to support Remy by keeping him upright and bouncing on his cock to gripping something for his own sake, as he feels his pleasure begin to build to an insurmountable degree. He leans down too, using his hold on Remy's neck to lift him just enough for Virgil to bite the back of Remy's shoulder in an attempt to muffle his sounds of enjoyment. Remy however can feel the vibrations of Virgil's moans, and that further pleases him knowing that Virgil finds him, his body, and this sex irresistible.

As Remy's hands again clasp around Virgil's arm, Virgil grits out "what? Close again? Already?"

Remy has no shame in moaning out an affirmative "yes," followed by a flirty "I can't help it. Not when I have a hot, muscular man taking me to pound town."

Whining, Virgil hides his red face in Remy's flesh, but the hold he has on Remy's waist wraps further around to finally grasp Remy's neglected cock. The cry Remy lets out as his shaft is quickly stroked by Virgil's calloused fingers is desperate, but if he's begging for something, Virgil doesn't stop him from having it.

He just continues to pump Remy's cock quickly, not bothering to try and time it to his sporadic, needy thrusts, which are quickly bringing him closer and closer to his own edge. And when Remy finally comes a second time - with only a few, thin, messy spurts coming from his empty balls - he clenches hard around Virgil's cock, which has Virgil moaning in turn and shoving deep a final time to come himself. Tears prick Remy's eyes as he feels Virgil's cock throb and fill his insides with come, though he quickly wipes them away and just hangs his head, enjoying the unrepressed sounds he gets as Virgil's head falls back in pleasure.

He fucks Remy through his orgasm, though his thrusts are messy and slow, and his arms are shaking hard, until he eventually pulls Remy off his cock, and drags them both off the treadmill panting all the while.

They both end up on a rather stiff yoga mat, with their conjoined messes further dirtying the room, though neither of them seem to be in any rush to navigate away from the workout equipment. Remy lays flat on his back, while Virgil sits next to him, using a sweat rag to wipe away both his perspiration, and the semen still splattered against their bodies. He can't clean Remy out fully, but he also doesn't try to, instead just focusing on Remy's thighs and stomach. When he's completely wiped down, Virgil tends to himself, and then tosses the cloth into a nearby laundry basket (which was already filled with other sweaty and messy fabrics). Then, he runs his hand along Remy's back.

"Satisfied?" Virgil asks, a hint of playful judgement in his voice.

Remy snorts, and reaches for Virgil's hold. "Not until we get somewhere more comfortable. How about you carry me to bed, and brew me some nice Sleepytime tea. As a form of... post-workout cardio."

Virgil sighs and shakes his head, but his smile is apparent. "Fine," he responds, "but give me five minutes to rest first."

Remy stretches out, and then moves to snuggle close to Virgil's muscles, which he shamelessly, albeit lazily, feels up while they lounge. "Sounds good to me," Remy yawns, "more time to appreciate the view before it's obscured beneath my covers." Virgil laughs under his breath, and then focuses on breathing deeply and rhythmically while Remy continues to slowly drag his finger along Virgil's abs. They both sit there for a bit, collectively regaining their senses, and planning to move to the bedroom at some point... although they were really in no rush. No rush at all. 

Chapter Text

Being a hybrid was far from rare in Roman's kingdom.

Not only were his citizens hybrids of all shapes and sizes - moth hybrids, tiger hybrids, the all-too-common wolf hybrids - but the royal family themselves came from a long line of hybrids. Roman's father was a gold hybrid, and his grandfather was one of the same. His mother was the odd one out in their lineage, being a simple human amongst the rest, but she was welcome all the same.

Most of the hybrids in these woods resided in this kingdom, where Roman - the prince of this place - took great care of all of them. He made sure accommodations were provided to all hybrids - regardless if they were blended with elementals, minerals, or animals - and if there was ever a situation where a hybrid couldn't function, couldn't work, or had trouble traveling, Roman was good at coming up with creative solutions to help.

However, hybrids outside of the kingdom's walls were a different story.

They were less domesticated, and more introverted. They were never violent unless specifically driven to violence; Roman himself can't recall a single instance in which someone from his kingdom who was out foraging got attacked unless they'd been the aggressor themselves.

Roman had never really seen any wild hybrids up close; he had always been ordered to stay within the castle walls.

"It's a dangerous world out there," his mother, the queen, had told him. "You're made of gold, Roman. Poachers would kill you if given the chance. Other hybrids will tear you apart."

She had come from the outside world; she'd been a visitor in their kingdom, seeking refuge from the untamed forest. She'd found safety with the king, whose bed she'd manipulated herself into. Roman could never tell if she was genuinely afraid for his safety, or if she was trying to scare him into always sticking around. Roman's twin brother - Remus - had run off, after all. He'd inherited their grandmother's silver genes. Not a golden freckle dotted his body, nor a shimmering golden strand in his hair. Instead of having sparkling golden eyes, golden flecks across his skin, golden threads in his hair, and a radiant glow about him in the sunlight, Remus had the complete opposite. Cold, almost white eyes, silver streaks that resembled tiger stripes, and one clump of silver hair that grew in a single streak near the front of his hairline. Remus looked unimpressive in the sun, but intimidating beneath the moon. While Roman was praised for his beauty and how blessed he was to receive such pretty, royal genes, Remus was practically shunned by their mother, who was just as plain as she believed Remus to be. So, Remus had left.

The only person he told was Roman. He'd shaken Roman awake so roughly Roman was flailing thinking he was being attacked.

Roman's pale skin shone as the moon poured into Roman's room through the giant window bordering his balcony. On the balcony sat a hybrid, with wings furled around his body, though small patches seemed to glow along his skin.

"I'm leaving," Remus admitted, in a hushed whisper. "I've met someone. He's an abomination, just like me. I can't take anymore of this fake shit, Roman. We're hybrids, not humans. There shouldn't be standards. So Logan and I are going somewhere where there won't be."

Roman had let Remus drag him to the windowsill, where he was introduced to Logan - a partial crow hybrid, partial crystal hybrid. Logan's story came quickly from Remus's mouth, detailing how instead of Logan being born one or the other, his hybrid genes had mixed. His parents had adored his odd genetics, but the citizens had not. Logan spent his entire life being ridiculed, and was eventually sent away by his mother and father to go found a better life. Remus had discovered him outside the wall when he'd been out one day. They'd clicked instantly.

"Will you be safe?" Roman had asked him, as Remus and Logan stepped onto the balcony railing together.

Remus had snorted. "Logan's lived outside the walls for years, and he's been safe. We deserve to be wild, Roman. We deserve to explore. Be animals. Act on our instincts. One day, you'll realize that too."

"What will Mom think?"

"She won't care. She never did." Remus winked. "It's Dad's reaction that has me interested."

Despite Roman's nerves, he knew he couldn't stop Remus. And so they hugged tight, and Roman had receded back into his room, where he watched from his bed as Remus and Logan leapt from the balcony and taken flight into the air, with Logan carrying Remus over the wall, and into the forest.

Roman remembered his mother's anger when she found out, yet no manhunt was ordered. Roman had noticed the small smile on his father's face when he was told the news. After that, Roman's mother had become fiercely protective of him, and had told him as many stories as she could about the world beyond their kingdom. About nasty, foamy-mouthed hybrids, looking for their next meal. About human poachers who would kill anything they could make a quick buck from. And yet, Roman consistently found himself lingering at the gate.

He'd heard other tales too, from their hunters and their foragers. Wolf hybrids would come back howling and excited, and tell Roman about all the wild packs they'd come across. How they'd share their life stories in these brief moments, and then how they'd continue sprinting in different directions. Sometimes, they'd even bring guests back with them after their outings, only increasing the kingdom's population.

For example, Patton - a particularly large rabbit hybrid - had brought back a scratched up spider hybrid named Virgil (though Virgil had insisted he be called a drider instead). Patton had confessed to nearly fainting on the spot, but Virgil had been more scared of him than the opposite, and was willing to come check out the kingdom in exchange for a nice meal.

Roman smiles as he strolls by Patton's small restaurant, which is bustling with hungry hybrids. Patton himself is leaning over the gate bordering his massive garden, where Virgil lays on the grass on the other side, resting outside his fabric store. All of his cloths and garments are hand-woven, and dyed with the berries Patton trades him in exchange for silk napkins and curtain repairs. Both of them notice the prince as he passes, and they wave in his direction, causing Roman to politely wave back.

He's heading towards the gate, with a basket full of bread and wrapped meats in hand, to greet a small wolf pack following their hunt.

He waits near the giant, towering wooden doors that provide the only accessible entrance and exit to his kingdom, and his heart beats fast when the doors are slowly opened by two attentive guards. In come running the designated hunters, who immediately crowd around Roman, and drop their bags filled with fresh meat at his feet.

"Another successful hunt!" one declares, searching for any sort of praise. "We've brought back quite a bit of deer."

Roman looks away from their bloodied fingernails, and attempts to focus on something other than the red tint to their teeth. "That's wonderful to hear. Were you hunting for the West side, or the East?"

"The East, your highness," a different wolf answers. "The West will hunt tomorrow. The lions have spotted a human farm further South, and will make an attempt to steal a few cows. They won't be slaughtered immediately, but instead brought back to be added to our kingdom's farms."

"To breed and be milked," another adds. "And once their lives are near the end, they'll be butchered then."

"Please, tell them to be cautious," Roman implores, as he hands over the basket of foods. Immediately, the four wolf hybrids dig in, each of them grabbing handfuls of baked bread and cramming it and the meat into their hungry maws. "You know how ruthless humans can be. The last thing I want reported to me is a loss of one of my valued citizens."

One of the wolves wipes his face, and steps forward meekly. "With all due respect, your highness, I think humans may be the least of our worries. See... the boys and I, we..." the guy bites his lip, hesitating briefly before blurting out "we spotted a dragon, right outside the kingdom walls."

Roman pales. "What?"

"We believe its den is in the mountains Southeast. It was flying overhead while we were hunting. Didn't bother us at all, but its presence spooked away some of our game."

Chewing his inner cheek, Roman asks "is it a hybrid? Or just a dragon itself?"

"No way to tell, your highness. Whether it's a hybrid or not, I'd recommend directing the hunts to the North for now. If it is just a mindless beast, then we shouldn't disturb its hunting grounds. The lion's expedition to the human farm might be the last trek that way for a while." The wolf fidgets with a piece of bread in his hands. "Unless, of course, someone guarantees the safety of the South. By slaying the dragon, perhaps."

"I wouldn't risk our troops in a fight I'm not confident we can win," Roman whispers, before gathering the wolves further inside, and ordering the gates be closed. "I'll talk to the King, and see what he recommends. Our best course of action would be to first find out whether or not the dragon is a being to be reasoned with. We are not a cruel kingdom, and we will not hurt any potential hybrids unless they instigate a fight first." Roman's gut swells with anxiety. There was no guarantee this dragon was a hybrid, and if it wasn't then it'd be safer for the creature to be slain. Its meat would feed Roman's kingdom for months if stored right, but the fight wouldn't be solely for food. It'd be for their security.

The walls around the kingdom did quite a bit to keep wild animals out. Monstrous wolves and panthers had trouble breaching the barriers unless incredibly determined, but even if they were able to leap over them they'd often be spotted and subdued by the guards before they could cause any harm. A dragon, however, could easily fly overhead. And with its fire breath and massive size, a mere landing could kill hundreds, and a fiery sneeze could wipe them all out.

So, with growing nerves, Roman heads back to the castle.

He finds his father in his royal chambers, which Roman nervously steps inside of. The room is large - larger than Roman's own - and it makes Roman himself feel small. The king is reading a book of sorts, but sets it down when he notices Roman.

"My son," the king greets him, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I come bearing news of today's hunt," Roman shakily replies. "One of our wolf packs came back with meat for the East side. Said the lions were planning on hunting meat for the West side tomorrow, and they were also planning on stealing a few cows from a nearby human farm."

"Did you advise them to be safe?"

Roman swallows a mouthful of spit. "Yes, your highness. But, uh, the wolves also saw something... potentially concerning."

The king sits up slightly, and raises an eyebrow. "Concerning?"

"Yes. They... they said they witnessed a dragon flying overhead, and they believe its home is in the mountains. The ones down South. They're worried that hunting in the South won't be safe, and recommended we move their hunting grounds to the North until things get handled."

"Were they able to tell whether or not it was a hybrid?"

"If it was, it was in dragon form. There's a chance it's just an animal."

The king's expression clouds. "If that's the case, then I fear for the safety of our people. We have stockpiles of food, and a collection of jewels. If that beast ever becomes particularly hungry or possessive, we could become a target." Roman's father rubs his chin, before sighing. "But, you know I'd like to avoid sparring with any hybrid unless it comes down to a life or death situation, and if the dragon is one of us, then we shouldn't bother it. There's a chance it's been in the mountains for decades, and that this is just the first time we've happened to see it out and about."

"What should we do?"

"Well, for starters, don't tell your mother."

Roman rubs the back of his neck. "You think this'll scare her?"

"I think if she finds out she'll immediately try to wage a war on the beast. If it's merely a dragon, then perhaps that's a fight we can win. If it's a hybrid, then we may lose a lot more men than what's necessary." The king stands, and sets a hand on Roman's shoulder. "I believe our best course of action would be to find the dragon's den, and leave an offering and a note nearby. A hybrid may consider the note a plea to keep peace in exchange for periodic offerings. A beast will think nothing of the items left at its door. Either way, we'll have an answer, and potentially an alliance."

"What should we bring? And who should we send?"

"Well... dragon's love sparkling, glittering treasures, and gold." The king's hand moves to Roman's hair, where a golden strand is plucked from Roman's brown locks. "So, it'd be my recommendation you gather up a handful of our golden treasures, and perhaps some gold from your own body, and you bring them South. If there's anyone safe around dragons, then it'd be someone quite literally made of gold."

Roman's immediately defensive. "I'm not made of gold!" he insists, as his father heads out of the room. Roman follows him, pleadingly. "I am soft and fleshy."

"You have golden blood."

"Golden blood not golden skin! If I'm bitten then the dragon's teeth will tear right through me!"

"Then do not give it the opportunity to bite you. Though, it shouldn't unless startled." Roman's led to the armory, where his father opens a cabinet, revealing a sharp, sparkling blade, befitting a king. "You may take my sword, my son, though I advise you not to wield it unless necessary. You should head out tomorrow, at sunrise. It'd recommend using tonight to gather what you think the dragon may like, and I'll expect you home tomorrow evening with news of how the encounter went."

Roman's handed the blade, which he holds with trembling hands. "And what if I don't return home?"

"Then I'll send our strongest troops to go find you. But I will not find a body; you will not perish. I have faith in your heart, my son. You come from a long line of kind rulers, who have formed bonds with creatures far more dangerous than dragons. Your ancestors will stand with you, and your mother and I will be expecting your success. Now go and gather. I will see you off on your journey tomorrow. Though I will not tell your mother of your departure until after you're gone."

With that, Roman and his father are left heading in opposite directions, with Roman nearly collapsing in his room out of fear.

Him? Confronting a dragon? Roman would do anything for the safety of his people, but until now he's never really had to!

He scoots on his knees towards his bed, which he lays his father's sword atop of, before digging into his nightstand where he keeps any golden hair of his that falls out. It's not a habit he started - it's one his mom did. According to her, his gold was precious, and the strands of hair from him that were purely golden would only amplify their fortune. So, he'd started keeping them in a wooden, sculpted jewelry box that were gifted to both him and Remus upon their births.

He holds the box close as he carries it out of the room.

He heads back out into the village for the second time that day, though this time instead of walking to the kingdom's entrance, he heads for Virgil's shop.

Virgil's no longer laying outside like he was earlier, and has instead moved inside his quaint home. Roman heads inside.

He finds a few other citizens looking around the fabrics - from dresses to trousers, all in different styles, sizes, and shapes. Virgil himself is upstairs in a small balcony visible from the ground. He's laying atop a decently large nest woven completely of silk, and he's actively using his sharp claws to daintily weave together freshly spun silk into what looks to be a onesie fit for a child. Gulping, Roman climbs the stairs.

"Virgil," Roman starts, and Virgil jumps as Roman's words startle him out of his focused mood.

"Your highness," Virgil grits, bowing his head informally. "I would appreciate you making your presence known from the first floor, instead of surprising me up here."

"I know, and I'm sorry for intruding, but I have a custom request." Virgil sets aside what he's working on in order to take the small box from Roman. When he looks inside it, his eyes go wide. "I need this gold spun into something. A small, hand-sized square if that's all you can make with it. I just need it to be made with that gold, and nothing more."

Virgil's hands tremble. "You trust me to... make something using your hair?"

"Of course I do. And I trust that if it comes from you, it'll be of the highest quality, with stitches so firm that the chances of the fabric coming unwoven will be slim to none. This is for someone really important."

"Who?"

Roman glances beneath them, at his unsuspecting citizens. Leaning in close, Roman quietly whispers in Virgil's ear "the dragon in the South."

All the colour drains from Virgil's face, as Roman rushes to explain "I... I have to go confront it tomorrow. And I need to bring gifts. And I need your help."

"Are you deciding to go on your own, or are you being ordered to go? Because that's practically a death sentence. I've seen that dragon fly overhead for years; it's massive, Roman. If you anger it, you're done for."

Roman's hands press hard against his face. "I know," he whimpers, "but my father is requesting I do this."

Bristling, Virgil closes the box full of hair and sets it aside. "Well..." Virgil bites his tongue, before sighing, "just be safe. I'll have your hair woven into something by morning. You can come by and grab it before you head out into the woods."

"Thank you, Virgil. I'll make sure you're compensated heavily for this."

"Just get back in one piece. That's all I ask."

Roman descends Virgil's stairs and heads out, and goes next door.

Patton is hopping from table to table tending to patrons who are eating a variety of veggies and soups. As a vegetarian, Patton doesn't cook or prepare meat, but the meals he hands out are nutritious enough. His garden and his crops are incredibly impressive, and he's spent a lot of time cultivating rare plants to make special broths, some with medicinal or sometimes even whimsical properties. Upon spotting Roman, Patton happily strolls over.

"My prince!" Patton exclaims, drawing the eyes of a few customers who all excitedly greet Roman with an array of smiles and praises. Patton immediately claps Roman on the back, and guides him further inside. "Out twice a day? Is the weather that good?"

"I'm here in need of a favor," Roman mumbles. "A favor that shouldn't be discussed in front of my people."

Patton's smile falters slightly, as he leads Roman out of the building and out into the garden. In a more serious tone, Patton asks "what's going on, Roman? Is something wrong?"

"There's... there's a dragon in the Southeast, who's been flying over our hunting grounds, which means it's nearing the castle. I've been tasked with going out to confront the beast at sunrise tomorrow, and to leave it offerings in exchange for peace."

"So you think it may be a hybrid?"

Roman shrugs, and then collapses onto the steps leading back into the restaurant. "I don't know. It could just be a dragon that'll kill me the moment I near its den. But just in case it's a hybrid, it's best to try and negotiate an alliance of some kind. To keep the kingdom safe."

Patton nods solemnly, before smiling lightly. "Well, if it is a hybrid, aligning ourselves with a dragon would make us one mighty strong kingdom! And dragons are easy to please. They like purdy things, and plenty of stuff in this kingdom is awfully purdy."

"That's why I'm here, actually," Roman sighs. "You know those golden flowers that were gifted to your grandfather by mine? The special ones?"

Patton nods. "Special flowers, those are. They make glimmering, golden broth, said to heal even the sickest of people and taste more heavenly than even the freshest of fruit."

"Could you... make me some broth? If not for the way it tastes, merely the way it looks may please the dragon. And I need to offer it anything at my disposal in order to further increase my chances of getting through to it."

"Of course, Roman. I'll whip you up a strong batch of it, and see if I can find a gorgeous pot to store it in. Any little bit helps."

Roman can't help but smile slightly as he thinks of Patton pondering over the many pots and vases he'd collected through generations and generations, debating which one a dragon would appreciate the most. "Thank you, Patton," Roman says. "This admittedly helps ease my anxiety. Even if this dragon could find gold coins or glittering jewels in places like human villages or stores in mountains, these flowers are special."

"You're special too, kiddo. I'm sure that even if the offerings are subpar, your presence alone will help sway the dragon to our side. Whether it's a hybrid or not, you're just too precious to devour." Patton pinches Roman's cheek, before ruffling his hair. "I'll bring your broth by the castle tonight, as well as some nice squash soup to lift your spirits! It's best you get home for now though; Lord knows you'll need all the rest you can get."

Roman takes in a deep breath at Patton's request, and then heads towards the gate, where Patton lets him out of his garden and walks him back to the paved street.

"You'll do great, kid," Patton assures him. "This whole kingdom has faith in you."

Though Roman's relieved to hear that, he's not really sure he has faith in himself.

As he trudges back to the castle, Roman finds his body feeling heavy as he flops down in his bed, laying beside his father's sword as if he won't be wielding the blade in less than twenty-four hours. He'll have a woven, golden square, magical, golden broth, and some gold coins from their cellar... but will that be enough? Roman doesn't think so, and he twists and turns in his sheets as he thinks of something else special enough to please a dragon.

He doesn't know much about the creatures - just that they enjoy pretty, sparkling, glimmering things, which often happens to be gold or treasures. What else does Roman have that's shiny and rare?

Roman glances at the blade, and he feels sick. He has an idea, but he's not sure if he likes it.

He slides out of bed, and pushes the sword to the foot of his mattress. He then fishes out a small dagger from his dresser, and holds it so tight his knuckles go white as he heads to Remus's room.

The room is empty of life, but that's not a surprise; it has been since Remus's elopement. But all of his items that he left behind are untouched, and covered in a thin layer of dust.

Roman almost feels somewhat devious digging through a room that's not his. Though he's not entirely confident Remus is still alive, it still feels like he is, and as a result Roman feels like he's snooping. He knows that if Remus was still around, he wouldn't care about Roman looking around his room (he was very open about having nothing to hide, even though there was definitely some stuff Roman would have appreciated if he kept it private), but still. Remus doesn't know he's snooping. But Remus is the only person he knows for sure would have what he needs.

He digs through Remus's nightstand, dresser, and closet, before eventually reaching beneath Remus's bed where he finds a small box. As soon as it's opened, Roman knows he's found what he's been searching for.

There's a variety of items inside. String, beads, and a bunch of animal teeth and bones that have Roman cringing in disgust as he reaches past them. It's what they're stacked on top of that he needs, and eventually he's able to grab it.

It's a small, glass vial with a cork pushed securely in the top. The container itself is empty, but it won't be for long. It's about half the size of Roman's pointer finger, and barely as thick.

Roman then pushes the box back under Remus's bed, and combs his fingers quickly through his hair, plucking out a handful of golden strands from his head. Once he's gathered a decent amount, he lays the handful in his lap, and picks up his dagger instead.

He uses his teeth to pull the cork from the bottle, and then sets that securely on his thighs too. His hands tremble once he has everything together, and briefly debates giving up on what he was planning to do. Surely a golden cloth, some golden broth, and some coins would be plenty... right? But Roman's not sure of that, and he feels he needs to be since his safety and the future security of his kingdom is at stake. So, he sucks in a sharp breath and presses the dagger to the tip of his pointer finger, drawing blood from his flesh with the pointy blade.

The moment he spots a thick drop of shining, golden liquid forming, he's quick to grab the glass vial and hold it close to his finger, careful to make sure no blood is wasted. The singular drop fills half the bottle, and a second bead that Roman squeezes out tops it off. Roman even has to tip the glass to pour the tiniest amount out in order to be able to get the cork in! Nausea eats at him the entire time, but as soon as the vial is filled and closed, Roman lets out a small sigh of relief.

He twists the bottle in his hands, and smiles slightly as he looks at it. A benefit of his blood not being red is that it made him less queasy to look at it, even if he still didn't like it. But it looked pretty, and that's what mattered.

With the hair he'd pulled out of his head, Roman craftily braids it into a thin but sturdy rope that he then laces around the vial's neck, and ties a loose knot in the back. If the dragon was merely a dragon, then perhaps it could be jewelry for one of its claws. If it was a hybrid, then Roman supposes it could work as a necklace. And having blood from the Kingdom's prince was not something just anyone could say they possess. It's something special. Something rare. Something that gave Roman the smallest bit of hope that there may be peace in the kingdom's future.

With a bit more confidence than he had this morning Roman heads back to his room, and carefully lays his father's blade and the necklace to the side, making sure they'll remain safe through the night.

Later that evening, when the sun sets, Patton sticks true to his word and comes by to drop off two pots of soup. One is a standard squash soup that smells incredible, and the second is contained beneath a pot with a lid. If it has a scent, it's not strong enough to come through the sculpted container. And the pot itself is beautiful. It's carved with intricate floral patterns that have been painted with golden paint and mixed with glitter, so that it looks like it has actual golden accents in the material itself. Roman knows the container isn't that fancy, but it looks fancy, and it was the pot's contents that'd be the real selling point.

"Does it need to be stored in any specific way?" Roman asks, as Patton helps him carry both containers of broth to Roman's room.

Patton shakes his head. "Far as I know that broth is good for a solid year just laying out in the open."

"Wonderful. Thank you, Patton." Roman sets the squash soup on his bed, and Patton sets the golden broth on the floor beside Roman's sword.

Patton pulls Roman into a tight hug. "Of course, kiddo. Hopefully it helps sweeten this encounter, even if just by a bit. I'm looking forward to your safe return, and the story you'll bring with it. And, don't tell Virgil I told you, but he's concerned for you too. He asked me if I'd try and hint that you should go visit him after you come back, so he can be assured nothing happened to you."

Roman smiles, and sighs. "I'll make sure to tell Virgil that he'll be the first person I seek out upon my return."

"Good. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

With that, Patton wishes Roman a good night, and heads out of the castle, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts, and his fears about confronting a beast that could easily tear him to shreds. This sickening anxiety prevents him from getting a good night's sleep, and the next morning Roman's more fearful than ever.

He puts on a brave face as he greets the king that morning, with his father's blade in a sheath at his side, the vial of blood in his pocket, and the pot of golden broth secured tightly with ropes and tucked into a bag Roman wears that's further filled with coins and ingots that should be to the dragon's liking. On his way through the village, Roman stops at Virgil's shop as he'd been planning to, where Virgil is standing tall outside, eight pointed legs rigid with worry.

He has to bend down in order to hand Roman the fabric. It's been woven into a perfectly square cloth, about the size of Roman's face.

"Be careful, your highness," Virgil murmurs. "The last thing this kingdom needs is for both the princes to go missing."

Roman forces himself to smile as he tucks the weaved square safely into his bag. "I will. And your shop will be the first I visit upon my return."

Virgil sighs in relief, and nods his head in thanks, before slowly heading back into his store, leaving Roman alone on his path out of the kingdom. Aside from Patton, Virgil, and the king, nobody else has been made aware of Roman's adventure, and as such hardly anybody pays him any mind outside of politely bowing when he walks by. Even as he gets to the gate, nobody questions his departure. The giant, wooden doors are just opened without a question, leaving Roman facing the forest in front of him. His mother's words echo in his head. It's a dangerous world out there.

But... it was a world Roman had to brave. And so, he does.

His first steps into the woods are uneventful, as Roman's still too close to the kingdom's walls for any dangerous creatures to be waiting. By now, most animals had strayed away from their kingdom, or been hunted thoroughly. Any meat was good meat, and the animals either became that meat or became aware of the dangers that came with lingering near those walls. It's only after Roman heads deeper South that he begins to feel sick.

He isn't animalistic at all - he's not an animal hybrid, of course. Poachers would have no reason to instinctively shoot if coming across him. They wouldn't notice any digitigrade legs, ears, or a tail. But if they ever decided to venture closer, they'd notice Roman's unmistakable golden accents. And his mom had detailed how they'd cut the freckles from his body, yank the hair from his head, and bleed his body dry of its golden blood. Roman begins to shake once the kingdom's walls are no longer in sight, as it really cements his journey as being one he can't back out of. If he chose to just go home now, those who knew of his task would see he still had the items he was supposed to give to the dragon, and he'd be met with immense disappointment or fear. If he abandoned the items and went home claiming he'd given them to the dragon, what was he going to say if the beast ever decided to attack the kingdom on a whim? That it went back on their peace treaty? That it was feeling impulsive? Or would he be forced into admitting he lied?

There was no other choice but to push onward.

He directs himself a bit East as that was where the mountains were supposed to be, and gulps when he sees the tall, towering structures come into view. The mountains were a safe haven for their kingdom; most humans wouldn't risk the trek through them, and so the land out here was almost free of people aside from small farms or villages here and there (that were often run out by hybrids anyway, as most wild hybrids were very territorial). But that journey would be hell for Roman, who wasn't necessarily equipped to climb. He starts to sweat just thinking about having to ascend that steep, tree-covered terraria, and still arrive at the dragon's den before sunset, as he was due home by then.

But fortunately - or unfortunately, in Roman's case - the heavy flap of wings overhead stops him in his tracks, and prevents him from heading into the mountain range, leaving him standing in shock in the clearing he'd entered just moments prior.

Roman nearly passes out when he sees the giant, yellow dragon circling overhead, and he knows it sees him. He stumbles backwards so fast that he trips over himself and falls to the ground as the beast lands in the trees directly in front of him, blocking his access onward.

At first, there's silence, as the forest goes completely still. Roman tries to peer into the thick brush before him, but he spots no sign of the dragon. That is, until, its eyes suddenly come into view, shining intensely even when obscured by dark shadow.

"What's a being like you doing wandering so deep into my part of the woods?" the dragon asks, it's voice coarse as no doubt speaking in such a form was strenuous on the vocal cords.

Despite the intimidating tone, Roman immediately relaxes slightly, as the knowledge that this dragon was a hybrid was somewhat relieving. That at least meant it was probably capable of empathy, and as such would be easier to reason with. As soon as Roman can bring himself to speak, he does, shifting to his knees as he slides his bag off his back and sets it in front of him. "I'm... I'm Prince Roman, from the kingdom Aureus." His voice shakes as he talks, but he forces himself to continue anyway. "I was instructed to meet with... with you. The dragon. I come bearing gifts, and a note asking for a peaceful coexistence between you and my people."

The dragon's intense gaze seems to become less judgemental, and more excited. "Gifts?" it repeats, and Roman's quick to nod.

"Yeah. I... I put together some of my kingdom's finest items in hopes they'd be pleasing."

The dragon steps forward, and Roman's eyes go wide as he sees it. It's huge in size - taller than some of the trees they're surrounded by, and so long that even once it's maneuvered mostly into the clearing most of its tail is still obscured by the flora behind it. It sniffs once at the floor in front of Roman, and then angles its maw directly at Roman's face. Then, slowly, the dragon begins to shift.

Its body recedes into itself, scales slowly shrinking and morphing into a creature more familiar to Roman - one of a hybrid.

The dragon keeps its digitigrade legs, with clawed feet, and similarly clawed hands. The tail that was swaying behind it also shrinks, but still flickers side to side, and still reaches the floor with its length. And the impressive wingspan that had kept such a massive being in the air had shifted as well, though they were still large and could easily allow the hybrid to take flight at a moments notice. Sharp horns remain atop the hybrid's head, creating an air of danger around him. And yet the way he stands exudes no aggression - just confidence.

But it's the dragon hybrid's face that takes Roman's breath away, as this hybrid was unbelievably... beautiful. With tough, yellow scales decorating his cheeks and traveling down his neck and arms. Roman can only imagine the scales further lining the hybrid's chest and legs, but such areas were obscured by fabric woven with fine silk that shines in the sun.

Before Roman can speak, the hybrid does, taking Roman's face in his hands.

"You don't look to be an animal hybrid," the dragon says, as his sharp nails caress Roman's jaw. "But you are awfully pretty. Too pretty to be a human. Is that gold in your hair? And on your face?"

Roman flushes, his cheeks going a deep yellow. "Yeah," he answers. "My family are all gold hybrids. Well, not all of us. My mom's human, and my grandmother was silver, but-"

The dragon presses his thumb over Roman's mouth, silencing him. "So you're partially made of gold. How fascinating. Never have I come across a hybrid as mystifying as you, nor one as gorgeous." He strokes Roman's cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Roman's sparkling freckles. "Coming to meet me during sunrise was quite the sly play; did you already know that the sun would catch your face just right, and make you sparkle even more?"

Roman exhales a shaky breath. "No. I didn't plan to be devious or anything."

"Hm." The dragon crouches down, and then lands on his knees in front of Roman. "Well, you sure do look stunning. And you've put me in a good mood. What gifts do you have to offer me, sweet thing?"

Roman clumsily fumbles with his bag as soon as the question is asked, pulling out the variety of contents within it. The first thing he hands the dragon are all the golden coins. "These are some of the riches from my kingdom," he says, as he lays the coins in the dirt.

"I assume it's hardly a fraction of what you have in total?"

Swallowing a mouthful of spit, Roman nods. "Yeah. I'm sorry." He grabs the woven cloth next, which he nervously extends out. "This is a square woven completely of gold strands."

The dragon smiles as he holds it. "The texture is quite pleasant, but the visuals are truly breathtaking. Look at how it shines in the sun." He holds the cloth up in the sky, and maneuvers it back and forth, causing it to glimmer. "Where did you find such fine gold to make a fine piece of fabric?"

"It... it came from my hair."

Eyebrows rising in surprise, the dragon sets the golden fabric to the side and leans forward, where Roman's head is then tilted forward. "My, my," the dragon breathes, "you do have golden strands in your hair. How wonderful."

As soon as he's released, Roman's handing the pot over. He watches as the dragon slices through the ropes with an easy flick of his wrists, sending his sharp nail through the thick material like it's nothing, before pulling the lid from the pot. He bends down to smell it, and then swirls it with his pinkie. As he sucks his finger dry, he smiles. "Golden broth," he says. "What a delicacy. I haven't had a fine bowl of it since I was an infant."

"It's supposed to have healing properties. And last for about a year, so no rush to drink it all at once or anything."

The dragon chuckles at him, and puts the lid back on the pot, before tucking his hands in his lap, as though expecting something else.

Roman gulps as he fishes the final item from his pocket - the small glass bottle.

He's incredibly nervous as he hands it over, and watches the dragon inspect it thoroughly. Its size when compared to the other two items was unimpressive, but its contents were the purest gold that could ever be harvested, permanently in liquid form.

"What's this?" the dragon asks, completely captivated.

Roman instinctively presses the scab on his finger from where he'd bled the night before. "It's a vial of my blood," Roman clarifies, his voice barely a whisper. "My very veins pump gold through my body, and I figured only a creature like you should be given something so pure. I hope you don't think it's weird, or find it insulting, or-"

Again, the dragon silences him with a hand clamping over his mouth. His eyes stay fixed on the bottle as he inquires "you said your name was Roman, correct?"

Nodding, Roman answers. "Yes. And- and you are?"

"Janus." With skilled fingers, Janus easily undoes the knot at the back of the necklace, and brings the string to his neck. He then reties the rope around his neck, effectively wearing Roman's blood as a prized necklace. Then, he stands, and reaches towards Roman, pulling him up too. "As you've already guessed, I do like pretty things, and the gifts you've given me are spectacular. But none of them compare to you, you gorgeous thing. And I'd be a fool to let a treasure as special as yourself go back to that cramped village. As royal as you are, I can guarantee the life you live there will not suit the standards of a life someone like you should be living. You'd be better pampered with me." Janus's wings unfurl, and Roman watches as he slowly morphs back into the giant dragon that had startled him moments before. His long neck bends so that he's near Roman as he declares "trust me, Prince, I'm quite good at taking care of my things."

Roman can't help screaming as Janus's sharp teeth near his body. His hands fumble with his sword, but all his flailing manages to do is unclip the sheath at his side, causing his blade to fall onto the ground. Roman's lifted by the collar of his shirt before he can try and grab it, and just as he fears Janus is going to chow down on him, he ends up carefully navigated to be firmly yet painlessly pressed between Janus's teeth. Janus's claws work to gather all of the items Roman had given him into Roman's dejected bag, and carries the small satchel with just one claw. Then, his wings flap, and he takes to the air, leaving Roman feeling breathless at how quick his life is being thrown one way and the next.

Though he's halfway in Janus's mouth, Roman doesn't feel Janus's tongue touch him once. All he feels is Janus's hot breath as it washes over him with each exhale. And being held so steady allows Roman to actually look around and appreciate the view once he no longer feels like he wants to throw up. It's actually quite... pretty.

He can tell he's being carried up the mountain, but it's only when Janus finally lands that Roman realizes just how high up Janus's den is. As he's carefully carried inside the large opening of the cave, Roman can't help but feel a bit thankful he didn't have to scale the landscape himself.

Roman tries to look around Janus's... space as he's brought further in, but he barely gets the chance before he's being gently set down.

Janus morphs again, back to his hybrid form, and then immediately bends over Roman, causing Roman to sink deeper into the mound he's in. "Comfortable?" Janus asks, in a manner that sounds sarcastic but is clearly his attempt at being genuine. He opens Roman's bag and fetches the coins in order to dump them next to Roman, alerting Roman to the fact he's sitting atop a pile of gold. And not just gold; there are jewels of all cuts, shapes, and sizes, jewelry, silky fabrics - in this hoard is everything a royal could ever want, and apparently everything a dragon could ever want too. "You're sitting amongst your kind."

Roman shifts awkwardly, and winces when he feels a sharp poke in his back. He lifts his body slightly, and pulls the object out, revealing it to be a small, golden tiara, with a ruby jewel in the center of it. Janus takes it from his hands. "Uh..." Roman nervously starts, before shrugging, "I guess I could get comfortable. It's a bunch of rather shapely items though, which don't feel that great against my skin. It'll be fine for the few hours I stay, I suppose."

"Few hours?" Janus echoes, before shaking his head. "No, no, no, my treasure, you're staying forever. You're part of my hoard."

Despite Janus's words bringing a flush to Roman's face, Roman still objects. "I can't stay here; I have people back home expecting me."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Janus quotes towards him, though he doesn't seem to truly believe his words. "Perhaps I'll accompany you back once or twice so your kingdom doesn't get any funny ideas about sending troops to their death, but I can't just part with such a pretty thing. You'd be essentially demanding I cut my own heart from my chest if you asked to leave." Janus breathes on the ruby pressed into the tiara, and uses his shirt to wipe it clean, before very gently tucking the crown against Roman's head. "I'll treat you like royalty," he insists, as he tilts Roman's chin up so that they're face to face. Janus's warm breath fans over Roman's parted lips. "Anything you want, I shall fetch it. Anything you need, I will guarantee you don't go without. All I ask is that you act like the treasure you are and simply sit pretty for me to admire."

"I..." Roman finds his complaints dying in his throat as Janus's sharp nails trace his face with such gentle adoration that Roman can barely breath. And what's even more intense than that is how Janus's petting doesn't stop at Roman's face. It further traverses Roman's body, running over his front and dipping down to the edge of his shirt.

"Your face looks like it's been kissed by the gods," Janus murmurs, "with golden speckles shining each time you smile. Tell me, Prince, is the rest of your body decorated with such freckles?"

Roman nods slowly. "Yes."

Janus's eyes go wide, and he has to look away to curse under his breath. "If that's the case, you mustn't hide such beauty. Especially not from me. Let me help you change into something that'll accentuate your beauty."

He turns from Roman and crawls on top of the pile, reaching down in a specific spot in order to pull out certain items that he seemed to have already been thinking about. Before Roman knows it, his lap is filled with rings, necklaces, and bracelets, all sparkling gold. They're accented with a variety of gems - from sapphires to emeralds to diamonds - and Roman can't help but stare in awe.

"These are the only things you should be wearing," Janus says, as he shuffles behind Roman. His touch is expected at this point, as his hands run down the length of Roman's shoulders, "not these horrid, itchy fabrics that are keeping you constrained."

"But I'm not wearing cheap fabric," Roman immediately argues, shoulders tensing. He curls slightly away from Janus's touch, which has Janus letting out a bitter hiss. "My robes are woven with the finest fabrics."

"The ones you're currently wearing?" Janus pinches at Roman's shirt, and then pulls, easily ripping a chunk of the cloth out. Roman's left staring as Janus closely inspects the threads, before frowning and tossing it aside. "Sure, it's decent. But it's not the best. Not befitting of royalty."

Roman's eyes narrow. "Well, what fabrics do you possess that are better?"

Janus's eyes gleam. "For one, I have that soft cloth woven from your hair. That might be the most delicate thing I own. But I also have a few garments strung from drider silk that feel like clouds are hugging your skin."

A bit more interested, Roman pinches his tattered shirt. "Some of my clothes were made by our kingdom's drider."

"Ah, so you should understand the quality discrepancy. If you have clothes made by such experienced hands, then why aren't you wearing it?"

Roman points towards the torn piece of shirt Janus had let drift carelessly to the ground. "If a fight ensued, I didn't want to lose some of my favourite outfits. And considering you're trying to rip the fabric from my body, I'd say I made quite a good decision."

Chuckling, Janus dips his claw into the hole he'd made and further rips it open, easily slicing through Roman's shirt with just the slightest bit of pressure. Though Roman gulps as he watches Janus's nail come close to his skin, he's not scratched in the slightest. And soon enough what's left of his shirt is being sweetly pulled away from his body, with Janus touching his bare chest shortly thereafter.

"Why, not only are you glimmering with gold, but you're also quite strong. Forgive my surprise, but I didn't expect a prize like you to continue blowing me away with your quality!" Janus's hands slide up Roman's abs, and to his pecs, where he squeezes firmly without care, causing Roman to quickly bring his knuckles to his mouth in an attempt to muffle the surprised moan that's ripped from his lips. Though the sound is embarrassing, Janus doesn't address it, and instead thumbs over the many patches of golden freckles that are scattered across Roman's body. "So much surface area to allow for so many spots," Janus sighs, happily. "Flex for me, if you would grant me the honor. I want to see how your freckles warp to fit your muscles."

Roman's hesitation is brief, but soon enough he finds himself raising his arms and flexing, holding the strenuous position long enough for Janus's eager eyes to flicker over every part of him. Janus's hands move just as fast, starting by hovering over Roman's nipples to caressing his biceps, and then settling back against Roman's core.

Then, without saying a word, Janus's hands move further down Roman's body, where Roman finds his pants and underwear being swiftly tugged to his ankles, leaving his bare bottom against the golden coins beneath him.

"Hey!" Roman exclaims, rushing to close his thighs and slide his hands between them for extra protection, "I was wearing those!"

"Not anymore," Janus coos. "The more of you on display, the better. And while you do look lovely in white, I think you'd look much better in a bit more gold." He grabs one of the necklaces from Roman's lap, this one being a shining pendant. The golden chain it's on is thin, but the jewel itself is heavy, and as Janus slides it around Roman's head Roman can already feel the weight it puts on his neck.

Once it's on, Janus steps back onto the ground and sighs. "You look positively endearing," he murmurs, "but let's get you fully dolled up."

The next few minutes are spent with Janus carefully tying, fastening, and clamping a variety of different jewels to Roman's body. His neck is burdened with at least four more necklaces, designed with textures so intricate Roman couldn't imagine how focused the jeweler must have been to mold it all flawlessly. Most of the necklaces are dangling and hang down to Roman's navel, with a few shorter ones keeping his collarbones company. The last one he's dressed with is a golden choker, that's skin tight. The pressure initially makes Roman dizzy, but after it's set Roman finds he quite likes the way it feels.

His wrists are weighed down by the amount of bracelets and bangles that Janus shoves on them. Some can easily be slipped over Roman's calloused hands - though the wider openings quickly tighten as the bands are guided all the way up Roman's arm, where they're fitted near his shoulder - while others have to be manually opened and shut around Roman's wrists. Thin bracelets contrast beautifully against thicker ones, with some having more diamonds than gold on them.

As Janus bends down, and begins working similar bands around Roman's legs, Roman asks "where'd you get all this stuff?" which is a question that has Janus glancing up at him mischievously.

"Some of it came from offerings," Janus explains, as two thick golden bands are tightly fixed to Roman's upper thighs. Their firmness causes the fat on Roman's legs to bulge in a way that has Janus staring. "Believe it or not, you're not the only one foolish enough to ascend to the dragon's den looking for a favor."

Roman frowns. "It was not foolish; it was brave. And I wasn't looking for a favor; I was looking out for my kingdom and my people, and their safety."

"Right, yes." Janus rolls his eyes, and clears his throat. "Anyway, plenty who spot me hunting decide they should try and win my favor through expensive gifts and sparkling blessings. Between you and I, I only have some desire to ravage and rampage. The urge to destroy isn't strong enough to necessitate being continuously bothered, but so long as my hoard grows, I suppose I don't mind." Janus kneels in order to begin adorning Roman's feet with anklets. "Though, perhaps the reason I'm not as vicious as my brethren is because I'm so frequently spoiled. Hm." He hums as he stands again, and fetches a pile of rings he'd left in Roman's lap.

Janus slides ring upon ring onto Roman's toes, and then even more rings on Roman's fingers. When he's done, he's left with one ring remaining, though it looks a bit too big for Roman's fingers, and a bit too small to be a bracelet of some sort.

"How do you feel?" Janus asks, as he spins the jewelry with his pointer. "Better now that way more of you is on display?"

Roman lifts the heavy pendant, and examines his reflection in the sharply cut ruby. "Admittedly I'm surprised you prefer this. I feel like this obscures just as much of my skin as my clothing did."

"Nonsense. Step down from my hoard, my treasure, and I'll show you just how gorgeous you look."

Slowly, Roman eases himself down from the pile of coins and treasures, nearly tripping and landing on his face once or twice as he struggles to slide down the gold, before he stumbles into Janus's arms. Janus grabs him and holds him steady, and directs Roman's attention towards a large mirror just a few steps away from his treasures. The edges are jagged, as if it came from blowing on sand itself instead of shaping and melting it tediously. Somehow the warped edges make it look hauntingly stunning. But what Roman was mostly drawn to was the way his body seemed to shine as he twists back and forth.

Each small movement has light positively radiating off of him - from the tiara on his head, to the streaks in his hair, to the jewels on his body, and the freckles dotting his skin.

"Woah..." Roman breathes. "How am I glowing like this...? This doesn't feel... natural."

"It's completely natural," Janus counters, before pointing up towards the roof of his den. Poked into the hard stone ceiling were small holes, drilled carefully through layer after layer of mountain solely to allow sunlight to pour inside. The holes were small enough that the light was never excessive, but with streams so thin they hit Roman in ways he didn't know the sun could hit him, and made him look all the more beautiful, especially while standing in an otherwise dim cave. "All my treasures shine, but you seem to shine the brightest. It's so... hypnotizing just watching you do anything."

Roman flushes dark red at Janus's words as he inspects himself in the mirror a bit more, before he catches sight of his cock, which is limp between his legs. Being so bluntly reminded of his nudity has Roman being hit with a fresh wave of embarrassment, and he's quick to press his thighs together once again to spare his dignity.

"Ah, yes," Janus muses, as he wraps his arms around Roman's body. He presses his head against Roman's side as his hands happily slide down Roman's pelvis. One is still handing the golden band. "I'm sure you've noticed how... empty that area looks. I could potentially fashion you a belt, but I'm not much of a jeweler. I do have something that might spruce up that area, though. And it looks like it'll fit just right."

Janus takes Roman's cock in one hand, and presses the cool item to the tip.

"What is it?" Roman asks, his voice barely above a whisper and coming out in a shuddering breath.

"A ring," Janus vaguely answers. "One made for the prettiest cock. Tell me if it hurts, Prince; you can do that for me, can't you?"

"Will it hurt?"

Janus's lips grace Roman's ribs in a gentle, soothing kiss, that has Roman so hot steam might as well be pouring from his ears. "It shouldn't," Janus assures him, "this is just a precaution. The last thing I'd want is to injure my new prize. I just hate breaking my things... but I do like playing with them. Though, I'm sure you'll quickly come to realize that on your own."

With Janus's words sinking in enough for Roman to cover his face in fluster, he makes a small noise to try and respond. "Okay," he mumbles, voice timid against his palms.

Seemingly pleased with Roman's acceptance, Janus kisses his waist as though giving affection to a beloved animal, before slowly beginning to push the ring down Roman's shaft. It's tight, but not uncomfortably so. More so just a constant bit of pressure that'd be impossible to ignore, especially since Roman's cock begins to swell with arousal at all the attention he's getting.

"Sorry," Roman immediately squeaks. He feels humiliated as he watches his cock harden in the mirror before him. "I'm not trying- I don't- it's not my intention to be so perverse."

Janus chuckles under his breath, but not in a way that worsens Roman's shame. He just seems... genuinely amused. "Sweet thing, there's no need to be so ashamed! It makes sense a treasure such as yourself would enjoy being all dressed up and worshipped like you should have been all along. And with a body like yours? I'm surprised you didn't work yourself up the moment you stood before my mirror. Admittedly, I've been worked up since I saw you glowing in that clearing."

Roman's head whips towards Janus, who uses the momentary distraction to quickly push the cock ring all the way down Roman's length, where it sits prettily at the base of his cock. As Roman looks back towards it, he has to cover his mouth to stifle a whimper.

"There are some kingdoms and villages that use rings like these as torture devices," Janus then says, as he drags his pointer down the underside of Roman's shaft, starting at the ring and then sliding to his tip, where the pad of Janus's finger pets Roman's slit. "They're supposed to allow people to build their pleasure up, up, up, but prevent them from ever receiving relief. They'll be stuck right on the edge of bliss, unable to seize it."

With a bit more fear in his eyes, Roman glances down at the ring. "Are you intending to torture me?" he asks, a mixture of shocked and betrayed. Janus laughs outright at him.

"No, silly! If that was what I wanted, then I would have found a ring much tighter. This one is purely decorative." Janus twirls his finger around Roman's cock, following the smooth ring in its constant circle, before finally stepping away and pulling Roman with him. "Now go sit back on my pile, where you belong. You must be mighty hungry after your... adventure, and I'd be an awful owner if I didn't take good care of my possessions."

Roman doesn't know why, but he listens without questioning Janus's instructions, moving back to the pile of coins as Janus himself disappears down one of the side caves connected to his main den. In the short window of time he has without being touched or dressed, Roman works to carve himself out an actually comfortable place to sit, fetching some of the fine silks Janus has strewn about his hoard and laying them in the divot of coins he'd scooped out. Once a few layers of fabric have been laid down, Roman gets himself settled atop them, and finds it's incredibly cozy. Janus was right to insult the clothes Roman was dressed in before; these woven cloths were far better in terms of texture and quality.

Janus comes back shortly thereafter holding flatware that seems to be sculpted from the purest of marble, with juicy, sizzling meat laying atop it.

"It's seasoned with finely ground herbs and spices that were recently bestowed upon me by nearby farmers," Janus explains. "I think they were worried I'd feast upon their cattle. And this meat has been roasted by yours truly; it's been flambéed to perfection." He lifts a sharp utensil, seemingly carved from bone, and stabs it into the meat. It tears effortlessly with just the slightest pull. Roman can't help but drool at how delicious it smells, and how tender it looks.

Janus raises the food to Roman's lips with a simple urgence of "open up," and he does.

He lets Janus push the bite into his mouth, where he immediately finds his eyes fluttering shut and a moan of delight reverberating around his chewing mouth. The meat is soft as he chews it, and it tastes heavenly; it's somehow even better prepared than the fancily dressed and basted turkeys or steaks his royal chefs would whip up! And this was done with just some fire and a few seasonings?

"It's... delicious," Roman breathes, making Janus smile.

"I'm glad. Only the best for a being like you." Another bite is pushing its way past Roman's teeth, and Roman's quick to chew and savor it, eagerly sucking down the plentiful juices that squirt from the meat and bless his tongue. "I have plenty to feed you. Freshly grown fruits and veggies grow wildly all around here. And I've made friends with a few hybrids in these woods that are more than willing to share their hunts in exchange for protection or a favor every here and there. So this is freshly slaughtered."

As Roman swallows the piece he's working on, he asks "do you keep a lot stored?"

Janus shrugs, and tears off another bit of food in preparation. "Not often. I can eat meat raw, which means there's really no reason to store it unless I'm stocking up for winter. When I feel particularly lazy I'll keep a few pieces around, salted and hung to preserve it. You just so happened to arrive during one of these instances, and I'm more than pleased to be sharing my stockpile with such a beauty. Now keep eating."

Bite after bite of the succulent meat fills Roman's stomach. Just half of the large chunk of food is more than enough to have Roman feeling full, but Janus doesn't seem too interested in slowing down his feeding.

It takes Roman physically turning his head to the side for Janus to pause. "I'm full," Roman whines, "you cooked quite a lot."

"A lot?" Janus echoes, incredulously. "This is hardly an entire meal! In fact, I'd argue this is an appetizer! Are you sure your kingdom treats you well? You shouldn't be this underfed!" He pokes at Roman's stomach. "I suppose you don't look underfed, but you should be able to stomach a lot more. You should be so full that moving becomes a lethargic chore."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're just trying to prevent me from being able to leave."

Smiling prettily, Janus playfully responds "oh no, you've figured out my ploy," before bringing another bite of meat to Roman's lips. "Genuinely, though, you should eat a bit more. You can stomach another bite or two, right? A big, brave, strong prince like yourself surely won't be bested by his appetite, yeah?"

Though Roman's countenance flashes with momentary concern, he soon looks more determined than ever. "I suppose not," he answers. "It'd be rather rude of me to waste what you've made, anyway. I was raised better than that."

"You're gorgeous and polite. What a package," Janus sighs happily. And then Roman's biting the piece of meat from Janus's utensil.

He chews slowly, his stomach grumbling in relentment as the food is swallowed down. His feeling of fullness is amplified by the small bite, but still he obediently opens his mouth in preparation for another, much to Janus's delight.

The next bite is the juiciest Roman's bitten into thus far, and it causes some of the meat purge to spill from Roman's mouth. Drops pool in the corner of his lips, and then slide down his jaw. Janus's eyes are fixated on the pinkish liquid as it rolls down Roman's chin. Though the mess is hardly erotic, Janus can't help but find it so, and Roman's left red in the face as Janus leans close to him and holds Roman's face still by cupping his cheek, before bending to his chin and kissing where the juice had formed into a heavy droplet, just moments away from falling onto Roman's thighs. Roman's left flustered as he feels Janus's tongue slide over his chin, and then up until it reaches his lips, which are swiped over fleetingly before Janus pulls away.

"Hm," Janus hums, "that does taste quite good. Perhaps I should start cooking more for myself more often, instead of lazily deciding to feast on my food while it's raw. It's quite amazing the difference a little bit of fire can make."

Roman's hardly listening, as his fingers come to lightly graze where Janus's tongue had just graced his face. He's ashamed of the way his cock throbs as he thumbs over the spit residue.

Before he can even process what's just happened, he's chewing another bite. More juice spills down his face, and drips to his chest and thighs. The pieces Janus are cutting for him seemingly get bigger and bigger, as if he's purposely making it harder for Roman to chew them, and as such causing more of a mess to drip down Roman's face and onto his body.

Each bit spilled seems to interest Janus more and more. Some of it he licks or kisses from Roman's face, but the rest he lets drip for now.

Little praises come from Janus. Things like "you've eaten so much," and "you're so good at doing what you're told" flood Roman's ears. And Janus's voice is so smooth and pleasing to hear that Roman can't help but melt into the hoard beneath him. His body relaxes as his stomach is filled further and further, until the plate Janus is holding has less than three bites left on it.

"See how much you were able to enjoy after you stopped overthinking it?" Janus coos at him. He sets one hand on Roman's stomach, which he rubs affectionately, before pulling his hand away in order to suck the juices he wiped off from his fingers. "You've almost finished it all! And since you're so close, you might as well just eat the rest, right?"

"Mhm," Roman nods, despite the fact his fingers sink into his own stomach, rubbing it as it aches. Occasionally, his knuckles graze the top of his shaft, and he'll be forced to stifle a whine.

The last few bites are brought to Roman's mouth and consumed slowly, with Roman chewing them until they're flavorless in order to convince himself to swallow. And once they've all been sent to his stomach to digest, Janus sets the plate aside and pushes himself closer to Roman's body. He has to lift himself onto the pile of treasures to be as close as he wants, but once he's there he's acting immediately.

His head dips down, and Roman feels Janus's tongue sliding over his abs. The purpose of Janus's licks is to clean Roman of juices, but the way his lips linger over Roman's core feels a lot more intimate than the actions of simply cleaning should be. And alongside licking, Janus presses light kisses too, focusing his attention on the clusters of golden freckles that decorate Roman's front. He has to lift a necklace or two in order to properly clean every place, but Janus doesn't seem to mind. And Roman doesn't mind either. He willingly leans back, letting his head fall and his legs spread as Janus settles between them, moaning when Janus's mouth teasingly grazes his nipples.

"It feels... it feels..." Roman gasps, but Janus shushes him.

"Let it feel good," Janus murmurs, "you deserve to feel good. And once you're all clean, and full, and satisfied, I will make you feel the best you've ever felt."

Roman lets out a pleasured moan as Janus goes back to licking over his areola, before whimpering as he feels Janus's sharp teeth graze his pec. He doesn't bite, but the sensual threat is present, and it has Roman weakly shifting his hips in an attempt to gain friction. But Janus is too far away to hump against, so his shaft is merely thrusted into open air.

Janus's attention shifts upwards, towards Roman's decorated collarbones and shoulders, where golden speckles are kissed and complimented, and the juice from the meat is licked away. The side of Roman's throat catches Janus's attention in particular, and before Roman knows it he's being bitten, causing him to yelp.

Janus's sharp teeth press into Roman's neck, drawing blood immediately. Janus eagerly sucks it up, and further sucks a dark hickey into Roman's neck. And Roman moans at this, loud and desperately. He tries to say Janus's name, but nothing but sensitive noises come out.

Eventually, Janus pulls away with a satisfying pop. "Look at that," he utters, as he presses his thumb into the forming bruise. "Because your blood is gold, your hickey is like golden flakes forming atop your flesh. If I sucked marks into every inch of you, you'd look as if you were made of the mineral. Though you already sparkle enough for your flesh to be confused with it. And your blood is just so... delicious. Thick, rich, and surprisingly sweet. Who knew gold could taste so tantalizing?"

He brings his body even closer to Roman's, pressing their chests together and urging Roman to lay back against the coins behind him.

Janus's thumb swipes over Roman's chin. "This is the last of the mess," he says, as his other hand reaches between Roman's legs. His fingers curl around Roman's cock, which he strokes slowly. "Once it's cleaned, I'll take good care of you. Do you trust me, my treasure? Trust that I know what's best for my things?"

Briefly, Roman's eyes flicker to the entrance of the cave, before settling back on Janus's engaged form. He's searching Roman's expression for any sign of hesitancy or discomfort, and Roman can tell he's desperate to hear Roman's answer. And so, Roman gives him the solid, honest truth. "Yes," he breathes, his voice confident but needy. "You... you know what's best."

"It's like precious gold drips from your voice as well," Janus sighs, before kissing the underside of Roman's jaw. He nips at a few more places now, squeezing Roman's cock like a reward every time he emits a noise, before finally moving to suck the juices from Roman's chin. Then, he shamelessly moves to kiss Roman's lips, making Roman moan openly as Janus expertly slides their mouths together. Though Roman's never realized it before, he's finding out that his lips are incredibly sensitive, as Janus's rubbing against his own has him squirming wildly beneath the dragon hybrid. Furthermore, his hips arch up into Janus's touch, desperate for more of it. Janus does not speed up, nor does he slow down, as he continues touching Roman at a steady pace while licking the meat from his lips.

When he finally pulls away, Roman chases him, and whines when Janus stops him with a soft chuckle.

"You must stay put," Janus coos, "but fear not, I'm not going far. Just to my nest. There's something I need there, and trust me when I say our playtime will become significantly more fun with it."

Though Roman wants to complain, he's sure Janus is likely telling the truth, and so begrudgingly lets Janus slide away from the pile and disappear again. This time, he's gone for much shorter, and comes back shortly after with a jar filled with a semi-translucent liquid.

"What is that?" Roman asks, as Janus opens it up. Roman sniffs the air, trying to gauge if it has some sort of smell, but nothing reaches his nose.

"It's lubricant," Janus replies. "It'll make sex nice and easy."

Roman's eyes go wide. "Sex?"

Janus can't help but muse at him as he covers his face with his hands. "Of course, sweet thing. You're just so perfect. I want to be as close to you as possible; I want to feel you as much as I can. Every inch of you. Every centimeter. And it'll feel wonderful; I'll make sure you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that you'll hardly be able to think! Treasures don't need to think, after all."

A firm hand on Roman's shoulder keeps him pressed down against the gold beneath him, and Roman's legs are guided apart.

"It might feel strange at first, but most good things are a bit odd initially. You must tell me if anything hurts."

"Again with that," Roman whimpers. "Is it going to hurt?"

Janus lovingly rubs Roman's thigh. "Only if I rush things. But I promise you, I am incredibly patient, and incredibly skilled at what I do. I will never hurt you; you are too valuable for me to even think about breaking." He reaches over Roman, and adjusts the tiara on Roman's head, before pressing a small kiss to the tip of Roman's nose. "But on the off chance I'm too distracted by your beauty to pay attention, I'll need you to redirect me. You know your body better than I do... for now, at least. So I need you to tell me how it feels, when it feels good, and especially when it feels bad."

Trembling with anticipation, Roman slowly nods his head up and down, before letting it lay lax against the riches. "Okay. I can do that."

"Of course you can, my wondrous treasure. Now deep breath in... and out... just relax..."

Roman follows Janus's instructions, but still can't help tensing slightly when he feels two of Janus's slick fingers press against his hole. The idea of Janus's claws going into him makes him nervous, but Janus seems willing to go slow.

"Relax," Janus repeats, "be a good boy and relax."

He tries. He takes in a deep breath, and then another, and then another. He tries not to worry about potentially being cut and focuses instead on how hot his body feels at Janus's fingers just teasing his hole. They don't dare push in just yet, but they do circle, pressing firm a few times but never fully sinking inside, as if Janus is toying with him. Though Janus's expression is one of serenity, and he exudes a calm energy that has Roman melting slightly. It was hard to be so anxious about probabilities when Janus was just so utterly confident in his actions.

"There we go," Janus purrs, as he presses a few kisses to Roman's raised knees. "You're such a good listener. You just keep impressing me, Prince. Keep breathing nice and deep."

As Roman sucks in another breath, Janus finally begins to slide his lubed fingers into Roman's hole. The intrusion is jarring at first, as Roman has never experienced anything like it, but he quickly finds it intriguing as opposed to uncomfortable. It's not entirely pleasant, but it's not painful nor unwanted. And as Janus slowly pushes his digits deeper, it starts to feel quite good.

Roman can't identify what exactly he likes about it; perhaps it's the feeling of something inside of him, or that thing moving, or maybe it's the fact that Janus is touching him like this. Someone he's just met today, who's not only scared him horribly, but who has also spoiled him thoroughly. Roman's known him less than a full day, and yet his stomach is full, his heart is beating fast, and his head feels like it's filled with thick, sticky honey that seeps into his thoughts and reminds him just how great being in Janus's den is. He's been praised, pampered, dressed in jewels, and worshipped in ways even a king wouldn't be worshipped. Janus was treating him like a god.

He clenches around Janus's fingers without thinking when Janus tries to pull them out, making Janus laugh softly. "I have to add a third," Janus sweetly says. "And a fourth, to be safe. Not to scare you, or anything, but I don't possess traditional genitalia. Not that I'd overwhelm you with too much too soon, but considering you'll likely be staying for a while, making sure you're properly stretched and loose in general is an eventual goal of mine."

Lifting his chest slightly, Roman struggles to keep his head upright when all he really wants to do is stay laying against the gold. "What do you mean?" he asks, before his eyes flicker down to between Janus's legs, where there's a noticeable bulge. "About not having a traditional... cock."

"Well, for starters, it's not cock; it's cocks. Plural."

"Multiple!? How many!?"

"Just two." Janus lowers a third finger into Roman's hole, spreading his fingers apart before pressing them together, and repeating that until he's confident enough to add a fourth. "I don't expect you to handle both of them at once, at least for now. I'm sure I can eventually ease you into that, though, and soon enough you'll be properly bred by me."

Licking his lips, Roman quietly repeats "two," as that's double what he has! His eyes stay fixed on Janus's groin, which eventually has Janus urging him to lay back down.

"You'll see them soon enough," Janus says, promising to satisfy Roman's curiosity. "But for now, you needn't strain your neck to catch a peek. You must relax. Enjoy what I'm giving you, and relish in the expectation of getting even more soon enough." Janus's four claws scissor Roman's hole open wide. His inner walls are coated with slick lube, which has Janus looking more than pleased. "I'm sure this feels good, but you want to feel better. I'll make you feel better, my treasure; I'll never let you experience a subpar day again."

He slips his fingers from Roman's hole again, and again Roman's noises of complaint follow suit.

Janus rubs Roman's thigh with one hand as his pants are slipped down with the other, and soft assurances are spoken into the air in regards to Roman's impatience. But it isn't until Janus is scooting forward and holding two cocks with one hand that Roman properly shuts up, and stares openly.

"Oh..." Roman breathes, "you weren't kidding."

"I was not." Janus's hand slides up and down his shafts, smearing lube over both of them. Roman's entranced at how Janus's fingers quickly slicken up his lengths.

"Why are you lubing them both up if only one's going to go inside of me?" he asks, though he's not worried that Janus is going back on his word. His genuine confusion is laced with an undertone of eagerness, as if he wouldn't complain if he were to be double penetrated.

Janus smiles at him, and pinches Roman's thigh - just above the golden band causing it to bulge - affectionately. "I wanted my second one to feel good rubbing against yours. Dry friction isn't bad, and it wouldn't stay dry with the pre that'll no doubt leak between us, but I figured I'd hasten the process a bit to guarantee every step of this felt nice."

As he adjusts his position so that Roman's legs wrap around his waist and so that his cocks are laying against Roman's pelvis, Roman can't help but moan in anticipation. Janus seems pleased with his excitement, and so grabs his lower cock and begins to press it against Roman's hole, which slips open easily around the shaft.

"Good boy," Janus praises, "you're doing so perfectly, my treasure. You sound so beautiful."

Roman's fingers sink into the coins beneath him, pressing against cold jewels and gifts buried beneath the outer layer. He grabs a few just to hold onto something as he's slowly filled with one of Janus's cocks. Janus himself can't hide his own enjoyment as he brings their bodies closer. His eyes flicker shut, and his sharp, carnivorous teeth sink into his bottom lip. And with them so close, Roman moans again as Janus's remaining cock rubs against his with ease, slicked by the lube that Janus had the foresight to apply. With their shafts together, Roman has a moment to compare them. Janus's was slightly bigger than his in both length and girth, with scales that line the base but go no further past that. Then Janus pushes his hips so that his and Roman's bodies are flush, and fully settles his weight onto Roman, trapping their cocks together.

"See how easily you took me in?" Janus asks him, stroking the hair that's slick against Roman's forehead with sweat away from his face, to fully appreciate his beauty. "That's because gold itself was made by the Earth for dragons like me. You were made for me. You were meant for me. We fit together wonderfully; you can't act like you don't feel the connection. That warm, pulsating connection."

Roman does feel it. The way Janus looks at him, talks to him, treats him... it all feels right.

In the sense that whenever Roman was being offered gifts by his people it felt right. And whenever he hosted large banquets in which he was blessed with wondrous food felt right. And when he was serving his people... that felt right.

And right now, he's being given plenty by Janus. Fed by Janus. Serving this dragon hybrid who's just as entranced with Roman as he is all the other gold in his pile. Except it's not comparable at all.

"I don't know how I'm ever supposed to let you out of my sight," Janus murmurs, as his lips press against the corner of Roman's mouth. Now that he's pushed fully in, he stays there, letting Roman get used to feeling full. "All I want to do is stare at you and admire you and appreciate you similar to the many riches I spend most of my day with. But I need to spend all of my days with you. All of my time." He moves closer to Roman's lips, kissing his bottom lip gently, before kissing him properly. It's an action Roman moans into openly, trying to roll his hips up into Janus's body, which causes them both to break away gasping. Both of Janus's hands grab Roman's face, petting over his cheeks. "A prince..." he sighs, "a prize more like. My prize. My prince. My Roman."

Roman raises one of his hands from the pile and wraps it around Janus's back, his hand landing atop Janus's furled wings, which twitch at his touch but do nothing more.

It makes sense a dragon hybrid would be just as possessive as typical dragon's are said to be, and Roman can already tell he's being cemented as a solid part of Janus's hoard. His favourite part, even. The jewels and cloths that line the top of the pile clearly have more significance than the stuff not even visible beneath it, and Roman was set at the very top, in the very center. Janus's intentions are clear, and they've been clear, and Roman's more than happy to indulge. After all, this attention feels leagues better than any sort of attention he was getting before. This isn't fake or done out of formality. This is animalistic desire pouring out in desperation poorly masked with a thin layer of composed charm that's threatening to break any moment. Janus is going to break any moment. And Roman may as well break with him.

"Please," Roman whimpers, his voice quaking with desperation. "Please, I can't... I need..."

And he doesn't need to say any more than that for Janus to understand.

With another kiss being planted to Roman's lips, Janus starts his movements. He's slow and cautious with his thrusts initially, sliding only halfway out so he and Roman aren't pulled too far apart. But even half of his length moving in and out of Roman is enough for Roman's head to fall back against the coins. The jewelry he's wearing clatters noisily as his back arches off the pile and his body trembles. And he moans loud and shamelessly, which has Janus kissing him again, and again, and again.

The movement inside of him feels so good, and Janus's other cock still rubbing against his only amplifies that pleasure.

He can feel himself leaking pre. He feels it drip against his abs, and feels it roll down his shaft, where it both mixes with the lube covering Janus's length and is rubbed into the slick mess between them.

And then Janus starts to get a bit faster. He pulls his hips a bit farther, and pushes back in harder. It's a small change, but by no means a subtle one, as that slight difference has Roman squirming with excited pleasure. Constant moans fall from his open mouth, with Janus switching between pushing his own noises down Roman's throat and uttering praises that fill Roman's head.

"Janus, I... I..."

Janus curses under his breath. "My name sounds so good on your lips, my treasure. Say it again. Please, say it again."

"Janus," Roman cries, as Janus's hips instinctively buck harder, making Roman jolt. "Janus, please!"

And so Janus speeds up further. He pulls out so far that only his tip remains in Roman before thrusting back in, which just so happens to cause him to hit Roman's prostate, which has Roman gasping and moaning louder than ever.

His noises of pleasure reverberate around the glowing cave, with nonstop sounds pouring from him as Janus immediately focuses that spot over and over. Roman doesn't even need him to ask for him to hit it again; Janus just does. He knows what he struck, and he struck gold.

"You sound so pretty," Janus groans, "so, so gorgeous. How does your kingdom function without you around? How do they function with you around? I'd waste hundreds of days thinking about you - longing for you - if you weren't with me. And yet when you are, it's hard to pay attention to anything but you. Aren't they filled with the urge to worship you? To kiss your golden freckles and pet your silky hair?"

"Not like you are," Roman moans out in reply.

Janus smiles, and sets his hand on Roman's full stomach, rubbing it. It was now filled with two things; Janus's cock, and the meat he'd scarfed down earlier. As Janus presses down on it, Roman whines, and so Janus eases up his pressure. "Not a single soul in your kingdom, nor a single soul in these woods could ever come close to having even a fraction of the adoration I have towards you. Perhaps another dragon could understand your value and agree that you're priceless, but I'd never let another dragon have you. You're my treasure."

Roman's head slowly nods up and down. "Yes," he agrees, "yes, yes, yes."

His volume builds as he keeps repeating this affirmation, entering an unsteady crescendo that builds with each thrust to his prostate. Until his nails are digging sharp into Janus's wings, making Janus's claws press hard into Roman's body in turn.

It's an overwhelming feeling that has Roman's vision spotting with ecstasy as heat swells in his abdomen, flooding his body with such an intense warmth that sweat drips from him in glistening beads. Janus kisses a few drops away, and then further kisses Roman's golden patches as he continues pleasing Roman up to and through his inevitable orgasm.

Roman's mouth opens as though a loud cry should spill out, but no sound properly comes, as instead silence is all Janus receives, with Roman feeling too good to even express. Janus tries to keep a steady pace to help Roman fully enjoy the entirety of his climax, but finds himself getting sloppy and slowing once he notices something odd about Roman's come. It's... golden.

It looks almost unnervingly similar to Roman's blood, with the only difference being Roman's blood is a dark, rich gold. His semen however is a brighter gold, that looks like it's completely packed with glitter. Roman looks a bit surprised as he sees it streaked across his chest, but eventually just whimpers and lowers his head back down, panting as he eases his grip on Janus's wings. Janus, meanwhile, finds himself captivated, and can't help sliding his fingers through the mess and rubbing the golden consistency between his fingers.

"Wow..." Janus murmurs, "so pretty," before he meets Roman's eyes and says "surely you've got one more orgasm in you for me, right? You'll let me bring you to this wonderful, exciting peak a second time, won't you?"

Roman whines, but nods. "Yes," he croaks, "it felt... it felt... so amazing..."

"Then let me make you feel spectacular."

Janus resumes his movements, going fast and hard while bending over Roman to bite at his collarbone around his many necklaces. Roman's left whimpering and reeling with overstimulation as his limp cock twitches and hardens once more due to the mixture of prostate stimulation and friction from Janus's own shaft. He writhes beneath Janus, and his hips weakly buck upwards, grinding back against Janus's cock as Janus grinds down hard against him.

Hickey after hickey are sucked into Roman's flesh, bringing golden bruises to the surface. Janus's teeth leave beautiful indents that look perfect on Roman's body, and he leaves many of them.

Bite on Roman's shoulder, bite on Roman's collarbone, bite on his pec. He even goes back to licking and sucking Roman's nipple, just to press his teeth around Roman's areola and leave a deep hickey there, which has Roman sob in sensitivity.

"Good boy," Janus pants, perhaps minutes away from succumbing to his own pleasure. "Look at you. You look owned. You look beautiful. You look like a treasure. My treasure. My shining, golden treasure. Pretty thing. What a sweet, pretty thing you are. So gorgeous atop my pile. My shining centerpiece." Janus has to stop to moan, and then tucks his face back against Roman's neck, mouthing over the hickey he left on Roman's throat. Roman cries at the feeling of Janus sucking and licking over the sore spot, and then he moans even louder when Janus's hand wraps around their cocks.

Their shafts are pumped in tandem, with come, pre, and lube sliding between them with wet, lewd noises. Janus's thrusts become incredibly sloppy, with him unable to keep his rhythm. And Roman feels himself climbing towards a fast, second orgasm. Luckily, Janus seems to be nearing his, too.

"Please!" Roman cries, but he's unable to beg for anything specific.

Janus can't even respond. His constant flow of steady compliments has died out in favor of his own noises, as he's unable to mask his enjoyment. And his sheer pleasure showing itself in the tough bites and whimpers Janus lets out against Roman's flesh is what sends Roman over the edge a second time, this time actually moaning out a half-garbled part of Janus's name that's hardly even understandable. But Janus understands enough, and kisses Roman's neck a final time as he comes himself. His own white semen mixes with Roman's golden streaks, creating a rather gorgeous splatter across Roman's torso. Further come fills Roman's hole, making Roman whine, trembling as the new feeling causes shivers to run through his entire body. And Janus continues to thrust through his orgasm before Roman's letting out a small sob, which is when he finally comes to a stop.

They both stay still for a moment, breathing hard, with Roman's eyes pressed lightly shut and Janus merely admiring him, before Janus pulls out.

Another noise comes from Roman as Janus's cocks slide both out and away from him, but he cringes as Janus's come squelches out of his hole alongside it.

"Ew..." Roman whines in complaint, which has Janus smiling softly.

"Don't worry, my treasure," he soothes, running his hands affectionately over Roman's inner thigh in a pattern that relaxes Roman greatly, "deeper into my cave are nice, bubbling hot springs. They feel amazing against sensitive flesh, and channel energy from crystals buried beneath the mountains in order to heal even the most fatal of wounds. One dip into them and your ache, soreness, and..." Janus thumbs over the deep bite he made on Roman's neck and sighs "and bites will be gone. Though the marks will stay swollen and bruised, at least for a bit. Lucky me."

A small smile makes its way onto Roman's face. "A bath sounds amazing," he sighs, fantasizing about the warm water washing over his skin already.

Janus chuckles at his excitement, and pets through Roman's hair. "It'll feel amazing too. And then afterwards, I'll let you sample some sweet berries plucked from the bushes around my den. They'll help get your energy back up. But for now, let's focus on one thing at a time."

With an unsurprising amount of ease, Janus slides his hands beneath Roman's body, and lifts him. Roman is structurally quite a bit bigger while Janus is in his hybrid form, but Roman knows that Janus has quite a bit of strength that's not exactly visible due to being part dragon. Roman wants to question it a bit - he's never been around a hybrid that was so large in one form, and so normal-sized in the other - but he bites back his questions for now, and instead lets Janus take care of him, as Janus has been longing to do.

And Roman finds himself easily convinced to stay just a bit longer upon Janus's genuine, heartfelt request. Maybe just a day or two... or seven. Who knows. He'll see how this goes, and will eventually - at some point, surely - report back to his kingdom that the dragon flying overhead is willing to be much more than just an ally to the royal family.