Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time Wriothesley had witnessed Neuvillette in what he would later learn was a rut, all he knew was that the ever impartial Iudex was something other than human. He had his suspicions but they were plenty, and none more supported by evidence than the next. All he knew for certain was that the man sitting in front of him was a lot older than he looked, and had a connection to their nation’s element that surpassed all but the Hydro Archon herself even though he carried no vision. 

As impassive as he ever was, Wriothesley wouldn't have noticed something was off with Neuvillette had it not been for the subtle, repetitive flaring of the man’s nose. It was only later that he would fully understand how impressive Neuvillette’s restraint was, but at the moment all he could think was if there might be a leak in his closet that had left his clothes smelling of damp and mould. He didn’t think so, but it was clear there was some smell in the room that was bothering the Iudex and the only thing out of place in the man’s office was Wriothesley himself. 

“Is everything alright, Monsieur?” he asked, repressing the urge to bury his nose in the furry collar of his jacket and smell it. Neuvillette’s eyes flicked from the papers in his hands to Wriothesley’s own eyes with surprising speed and intensity, but they softened after a moment, a small sigh escaping pale lips.

“There is nothing for you to worry about, Your Grace,” Neuvillette said, but if anything the short five seconds of this exchange had made Wriothesley worry even more. Something was clearly wrong and he somehow doubted an unpleasant smell could be it. 

“Even if you don’t want me to worry about it there is clearly something wrong. Do you want me to leave? We can reschedule if-”

“There is no need for that, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Neuvillette interrupted, his voice harsher than he must have intended as he backtracked immediately, but Wriothesley was not deterred. Normally he would have respected Neuvillette’s want for privacy, but since the Iudex had recently gotten comfortable enough to pry into his business, he thought it only fair that he could do the same.

“If my presence is bothering you in some way right now then you can say so, I’ll only be a little offended.” He quirked a lip to make it obvious he was at least in part joking; he wouldn't actually be all that offended, but depending on the reason he might be a teensy bit hurt if that were the case. Neuvillette exhaled softly in a huff—something Wriothesley had learned to interpret as a laugh—and only looked at Wriothesley for a long time, taking in every inch of his face it seemed like before Neuvillette let his eyes fall to his own hands and he dropped the papers they were holding as he reclined in his high-backed chair.

“It is,” he said finally and Wriothesley felt it like a blow to the stomach, “but not for any reason I’m sure you could concoct.”

There was silence between them for a long moment as Neuvillette went back to studying Wriothesley and Wriothesley frowned back at him, uncharacteristically utterly lost. 

“I am sure you have long since come to the conclusion that I am not human,” Neuvillette said at long last, raising an eyebrow at Wriothesley while awaiting his answer. Wriothesley swallowed and nodded, anticipation building inside him as the prospect of unravelling the mystery of the Chief Justice suddenly presented itself.

“I have several theories,” he managed and Neuvillette smiled, or at least his mouth did; there was something unsettling about it, something intimidating in a way Wriothesley hadn’t thought the man across from him was capable of. It was not the unmoving authority of the Chief Justice—which was intimidating in its own way—rather, it felt almost predatory. 

“I am sure you do, as I am sure they are all wrong.” Neuvillette took a deep breath and held it, his eyes slipping shut while his jaw worked almost restlessly. Wriothesley worried he had only made things worse by speaking about it, whatever it was. 

“While my physical form is humanoid, by nature I am not like you. As such I adhere to different rules of nature than you, and that is all that is happening now. My current condition is no fault of yours, and while your presence certainly doesn’t alleviate my symptoms, they are nothing I can’t yet handle.”

Wriothesley could tell when the end of a sentence was the end of the topic, but he hadn’t gotten to where he was now without toeing some lines, so he continued to pry. Neuvillette had wet his appetite with that obscure monologue, and like the symbol he had claimed for himself, Wriothesley could be like a dog with a bone.

“And what’s this nature that makes you so different from us?” he asked, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the desk between them. “And how does me being here make it worse exactly?”

Again, Neuvillette was quiet, watching Wriothesley with the same calculating coldness he watched the prosecution and defence battling it out in the Opera Epiclese. That tingle of anticipation that had started in Wriothesley’s gut spread all the way to his extremities, causing him to shift uncomfortably under that sustained gaze. It was a relief when Neuvillette finally broke the silence.

“Like most creatures in nature, I follow a semi-strict mating cycle. I am entering one such cycle now and my body is compelling me to find someone to mate with. Your presence, more specifically your familiar scent and your current proximity, is expediting the process.”

Well that explained the flaring of the nose. A mating cycle, huh? The flood of anticipation moulded into a sting of aroused interest that Wriothesley did his best to repress when Neuvillette’s nose flared once again and his jaw clenched as if he had bitten down on his own teeth. Could he smell that?

“Now that you know I do believe it is best if you leave,” Neuvillette said, suddenly standing, one hand held out past Wriothesley to the door behind him while the other rested in a clenched fist on top of the grand desk. Suppose that answered that. 

“We will reschedule in a few days when this has passed. I realise this makes things difficult for you considering the nature of your request, but I can assure you it is better than the alternative.”

Wriothesley burned to ask what the alternative to him leaving would be, but as Neuvillette’s composure slipped the longer he lingered in his chair he quickly realised it would be best to listen. Not for himself, he wouldn't mind finding out what the consequences of staying might be on his own body, personally and definitely intimately, but he could see now that Neuvillette was afraid. Afraid of what he might do to Wriothesley?

“I’ll leave then. Just send me a note with a new time as it suits you; I can handle icing up a small leak now and then in the meantime.” They both knew it was far from a small leak—in fact it would require experienced divers to patch it from the outside which was why he was here—but it was still nothing Wriothesley couldn’t handle. 

“Thank you,” Neuvillette said, his voice tight, and while he earlier had done nothing but stare at Wriothesley like he could take him apart with just that, now he was resolutely looking at anything but Wriothesley. 

When the door closed behind him, Wriothesley had to restrain himself from falling back against it as he exhaled a cloud of frosted air. He needed time to process the fact that Neuvillette had been forced to put distance between them so as to not be overwhelmed by his own instincts to copulate, to mate even, with him, and he couldn’t do that in the middle of Palais Mermonia with the inquisitive eyes of a roomful of Maison Gestionnaire subtly watching him. Those were thoughts better saved for the privacy of his own quarters. 

And there they were plenty. 

The second time was almost a year later, a year in which their professional relationship had remained the same while their personal relationship had managed to simultaneously grow closer and more strained. The second time was also neither of their fault, but as it turned out the scheming of a small Head Nurse knew no ends. Once again it had been a scheduled meeting that drew Wriothesley from the depths of Meropide to the glittering facade of the Court of Fontaine and the towering Palais Mermonia. He had been early and so had stopped at a bakery on the way, affording himself that luxury when the topic of the day’s meeting was something as boring as the logistics of switching from inmate-coordinated cleaning of the common areas of the fortress to hiring outside help. He wasn’t all too keen on making that change himself, but once he started to accept requests from the inmates he couldn’t not follow through. Hopefully he could talk Neuvillette into denying this particular cooperation and then he could say he tried; that way the inmates ire could be directed to Neuvillette and not him, if they could at all hate the man more.

Bag of pastries in hand, he made his way through the vaulting hall of the Palais to Neuvillette’s door. Sedene tried to stop him, bless her, but in his usual way he had dismissed her concern with a smile and a wave and a short “he’s expecting me” as he knocked once and pushed open the doors. 

Neuvillette was at his desk, like usual, working, like usual, but that was exactly where the normalcy ended. For one, the man was dressed down in a way Wriothesley had never seen him; jacket discarded, cravat barely hanging onto the edge of his desk as if it had been torn from neck and tossed aside, blue gloves were missing and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing pale forearms and hands that suddenly gripped the pen so tightly between fingers that it snapped in half. 

“What are you doing here?” Neuvillette asked and his voice was a dark rumble that sent shivers down Wriothesley’s spine that was equal bits of arousal and fear. He probably should have left then and there because he could recognise the signs even if it had been a year since the last time and had been at the time far more contained. Instead, he closed the door behind himself and leant back against it, taking in the sight of the older man so undone, anticipation rising in him for every second that passed as they stared each other down.

“I sent a note requesting we reschedule our meeting. While I did not specify why, I insinuated enough that you should have understood either way so I’ll ask again. Why are you here, Wriothesley? ” The last bit was a growl if Wriothesley had ever heard one, and to hear his own name spoken like that in Neuvillette’s usually soft baritone was enough to get his blood racing.

“I didn’t get it,” he said, which was the truth. He had never seen any such note, and the part of his mind that still clung to rationality told him there had been something suspicious about Sigewinne in the last couple of days. He wouldn't put it past her scheming ways to hide the note from him, and if she had then that would explain the odd send-off she had given him before he left. Since when did she wish him good luck before a simple work meeting with Neuvillette?

“Then you need to leave, this is not a good time for you to be in my company,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley could tell from across the room that he was both clenching his jaw and quite possibly holding his breath.
“And if I didn’t?” he asked, certain that if he didn’t he would regret it for the rest of his days. He had wanted Neuvillette a year ago when he first learned the truth about him; had wanted Neuvillette two years ago when he still thought he was just a man, but none of that compared to how he felt now, faced with the truth of what Neuvillette could be and what Neuvillette could do to him. He didn’t want to leave and he was quickly realising that he was not above begging Neuvillette to let him stay. The words were on the tip of his tongue, ready for the moment when Neuvillette told him again to leave. Except that was not what Neuvillette did. 

The older man rose slowly from his seat and leant forward over his desk, resting on clenched fists on either side of his mass of unfinished paperwork. 

“You do not know what you ask, Wriothesley.” “I know enough,” Wriothesley interrupted but Neuvillette dismissed him.

“I do not even know, Wriothesley. I have never taken a human mate and if I did take a mate before then I don’t remember.” As Neuvillette spoke, Wriothesley slowly drew closer, step by shuffling step as if he was pulled by some unseen force. He couldn’t stop, but part of him was still afraid to get too close.

“I do not know what I would do. I might be too rough, I might even hurt you,” Neuvillette continued talking, but Wriothesley barely picked up a word he said. His mind was too hazy to process words, preoccupied with the triangle of bare skin showing through Neuvillette’s shirt where it had come undone at the collar. He wanted to taste it. He wanted to bite into the firmness of Neuvillette’s neck while the man took him apart on top of his sturdy desk. He wanted to always remember what it felt like to be at Neuvillette’s mercy whenever he sat in front of that desk, discussing work with the older man.

With a rush similar to being dunked under water, the haze disappeared from Wriothesley’s mind and clarity returned. He looked up from Neuvillette’s throat to his eyes, breathing heavily, unsettled by the strange feeling of drowning and being suddenly pulled back to the surface. 

“I am already affecting you.” Neuvillette’s voice was quiet, the growl that had suffused it before completely gone and Wriothesley found himself missing it. Only the desk was separating them now and Wriothesley found himself once again thinking of it, and of being bent over it as Neuvillette fucked into him from behind, and of feeling the grain of the wood against his naked back as Neuvillette tossed his legs over his shoulders and fucked him hard enough to slide him back and forth over the surface. 

“I don’t mind it,” he said at last, swallowing past a dry throat as Neuvillette’s face darkened even more. 

“You must be sure, Wriothesley. If you allow me this now then I won’t be able to stop if you find you have changed your mind.” The warning was surely meant to dissuade him, but it only warmed him. He could tell the strain of holding himself back was almost too much for Neuvillette, but he still did it. He still waited for Wriothesley’s explicit consent before touching him, which was more than anyone else had done before in his life. Granted, those people hadn’t gotten very far, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to push Neuvillette off of him as easily so he appreciated the effort. 

“I’m sure,” he said while making sure to look into Neuvillette’s eyes. They were in the quiet before the storm now, feeling each other out for sincerity and intent, and Wriothesley waited for it to snap with a vengeance.

It did not. Once assured of where Writohesley stood, Neuvillette gave only a nod and then turned back to his paperwork, giving one last signature on the one he had been working on when Wriothesley came in before he gathered them all up and placed them to the side out of the way.

“Come here,” he said and that growl was back in his voice, causing delightful shivers all over Wriothesley’s body. Wriothesley moved as easily as if Neuvillette had placed a leash around his neck and tugged, rounding the desk with speed. 

Neuvillette cleared his throat once Wriothesley was at his side, catching Wriothesley’s chin between strong fingers when he tried to come in for a kiss. Instead, he set to undressing Wriothesley, fast but meticulous. First he pulled his jacket from his shoulders and laid it over the back of his chair; then he pulled the loose-hanging tie over Wriothesley’s head and tossed it to the side. It fell against Neuvillette’s previously discarded cravat in a simile of their embrace as Neuvillette slid one arm around Wriothesley’s waist while nimble fingers unbuttoned his waistcoat.

Every time Wriothesley tried to help in undressing himself or when he reached for Neuvillette’s clothes to tug them even more open, he was rebuffed with a low growl until Neuvillette stopped entirely to place Wriothesley’s hands on his own shoulders. 

“Keep them there until I say otherwise,” he said and rewarded Wriothesley’s compliance with a single, hard kiss. It was clear Neuvillette was interested in only one thing and that was getting Wriothesley naked enough to fuck. He unbuttoned Wriothesley’s shirt, but only pulled it up his back to touch skin and otherwise left it on. He made no motion that he would want Wriothesley to pull off his thigh-high boots, but pulled his trousers down far enough to wrap over the lip of said boots, leaving him exposed in only his underwear and shirt hanging open from his shoulders. 

“Turn around,” Neuvillette said and took Wriothesley by the hips to spin him towards facing the desk. Wriothesley let himself be moved, feeling more like a doll in Neuvillette’s hands, certain he wouldn't be able to do much if he even tried. That haze had been slowly slipping over his mind again and he remembered what Neuvillette had said about affecting him and wondered if that might be why. And if Neuvillette’s arousal was potent enough to affect the chemicals in Wriothesley’s body just by being in the same room as him, then he wondered what it would do when Neuvillette was buried inside him and pressed as close to his body as possible.

Neuvillette gathered Wriothesley’s shirt in one hand and pulled it up his back while he pressed firmly between Wriothesley’s shoulder blades to bend him over the sturdy desk. One hand went to his underwear and pulled, all but punching a gasp from Wriothesley’s chest as the fabric ripped easily under Neuvillette’s strength. Fingers doused in what could only be hydro pressed between his asscheeks, rubbing over his hole until it was soaked and relaxed and Wriothesley was pressing back against them as well as he could with Neuvillette’s hand still holding him down. Then they pushed inside, two of them at once spreading him open almost too much but Wriothesley found he didn’t care. As long as he didn’t tear, he could handle whatever Neuvillette wanted from him. A bit of pain was nothing compared to the feeling of having Neuvillette so close, of feeling Neuvillette’s ragged breath stir the hair at the back of his neck before lips brushed against his skin and the imprint of sharp teeth sank briefly into his neck before it was gone. 

The feeling of fingers spreading apart inside him made him arch into the touch, struggling against the weight of Neuvillette’s singular hand on his back to get more, and the strange sensation of more hydro taking shape inside him to help smooth the passage pulled a strangled yelp from his throat as it slid around the entirety of his prostate in a slimy, but firm touch. Behind him, Neuvillette had taken up a constant, low growling, or something closer to a purr, and Wriothesley could feel it vibrating against his back as Neuvillette bent over him to once again press sharp teeth to his neck for only a moment, as if he wanted to bite down and was holding himself back. Wriothesley didn’t want him to hold back; they had talked about that and were done with it; he wanted Neuvillette to give him all of it, no matter what it was!

“Neuvillette,” he gasped and tilted his head to expose his neck and Neuvillette growled and scraped his teeth over the skin but still he pulled back, leaving Wriothesley reeling with the sudden thoughts of being claimed . 

The pressure of Neuvillette’s hand disappeared from his back and the fingers inside him grew rough in their pursuit to stretch him as another slipped inside, pulling him obscenely wide as all three sank to the base in one slick thrust. It should have hurt; he wasn’t prepared enough to take the width of it so quickly, but all it did was send his mind and body reeling with sensation, with a desperate need to be stretched open even more. 

While holding him open around the base of three fingers, Neuvillette pulled at Wriothesley’s rim with his thumb, massaging the muscle before dipping it inside at the same time he conjured even more hydro inside Wriothesley’s passage. It was so much he was drenched to overflowing in a second, cool hydro dripping over his perineum, his balls, down his thighs, in a steady flow. 

He only realised Neuvillette had let him go to undo his own trousers when he felt a cock press against his hole next to the fingers thrusting roughly in and out of him. Feeling it bump against him pulled a louder moan from Wriothesley’s throat as he realised the size of it and a constant string of breathless moaning began in his throat as he realised he would soon have that inside him. Wriothesley didn’t have enough experience to say whether a large cock was better or not, or if width or length mattered most, but he knew instinctively that nothing would ever feel as good as Neuvillette’s monstrous cock inside him. And he hadn’t even experienced it yet. 

With a slick rush and a wet plop , the fingers left him, but Wriothesley had only enough time to whine Neuvillette’s name into the wood of the man’s desk before they were replaced with the head of a cock determined to make space for itself in a space that was surely too small for it. The initial penetration was slow, slick head slipping inside one centimetre at a time from the tapered tip to the bulging head, but once that had slipped past the first ring of muscle in Wriothesley’s ass the rest was shoved in with one harsh thrust and a strangled yelp from Neuvillette quickly muffled in Wriothesley’s thick hair. 

Oh, it hurt! Nevuillette’s cock was even wider at the base and Wriothesley was not prepared to take so much at once, not even close, but the width of him rubbed against his prostate in a constant stimulus and the sheer length of him pressed so deep inside him his stomach bulged with it and Wriothesley had never felt so good! Those sharp teeth scraped again over his neck, only adding to the pleasure-pain of it all, but still they didn’t bite down like Wriothesley wanted and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why! He was Nevuillette’s, in that moment and for as long as Neuvillette needed him, so why wouldn't he stake his claim already when Wriothesley had already given himself? 

“Please … Neuvillette … please,” he begged, panting harshly between every word, moaning long and loud when Neuvillette carved a place for himself inside his body with another bone-rattling thrust from tip to base. 

“Patience,” Neuvillette murmured, the gentle word tapering into a growl as he slammed his cock into Wriothesley again, pulled out and did it again, and again, and again, hard, desperate thrusts deep into Wriothesley’s smouldering core. One hand curved around the firm outline of Wriothesley’s muscular hip, controlling him as easily as the hand on his back had, while the other slipped into Wriothesley’s short hair and gripped . 

Panic shot through Wriothesley when he realised he couldn’t move, that with just the grip of his hands on those parts of his body Neuvillette had effectively immobilised him, but it melted quickly into pleasure when he realised he liked it . When it was Neuvillette he liked it .

Pinned by Neuvillette’s inhuman strength and the weight of his monstrous cock inside him, Wriothesley could do nothing but take whatever was given to him, and that’s exactly what he wanted. His hips hurt where they dug into the edge of the desk as Neuvillette fucked him and his cock hung untouched between his legs, close to bursting with no friction other than the brush of cold wood as it smacked against the desk with every thrust. Like everything else, this too should hurt, but it didn’t matter. Even if it did, Wriothesley didn’t feel it. He was too caught up in the euphoria of Neuvillette using him for his own pleasure, fucking his hole so hard he couldn’t feel anything else but the friction of that massive cock tugging at his rim and pressing on his prostate and bulging his stomach. Gods but he could feel that, could feel the stretch of skin, could feel his whole body jerk against the desk as his stomach distended with every thrust. Neuvillette was so deep inside him Wriothesley was sure he would never be the same after this, that his body would be altered in some way. That’s what it felt like; it felt like he had walked into Neuvillette’s office as himself, but he would be leaving it as nothing more than a hole for Neuvillette to sheath his large cock in. The image of that, of existing purely for Neuvillette’s pleasure, to have nothing in his life except constant moments like this, sent Wriothesley hurtling over the edge. He came harder than he ever had before, completely untouched, clenching down on the large cock shaping his insides and gasping for air as his voice left him on a shout. Behind him, Neuvillette growled and moved to cradle Wriothesley’s hips in both hands, using the leverage to haul Wriothesley’s shapely body onto his cock time and again until the tight clench of walls around him pulled him to his own end. Neuvillette spilled inside him, a warm rush of copious cum pooling in his navel, distending his stomach even more, and again those sharp teeth were at his neck, trembling against his skin like they wanted nothing more than to sink in and claim . But again, they didn’t. 

“Please,” Wriothesley whispered, though he didn’t really know what he was asking for. With orgasm, the haze started to slowly slip away until only exhaustion remained, but still he felt no pain. Even having been fucked within an inch of his life, Wriothesley felt no pain except for the delicious ache of being speared on a cock that was still generous in size even as it slowly softened. All he felt was the cool slickness of hydro slipping over him and inside him, all the places Neuvillette had touched, all the places he had surely bruised. 

Neuvillette’s mouth followed, tracing paths up Wriothesley’s spine and along the curves of his shoulder blades, up and down canyons of corded muscles until he reached Wriothesley’s ass. Then he fell to his knees, a heavy thud of bone against the floor the only warning Wriothesley got before he felt the touch of a tongue on his used hole. Just as agile as Neuvillette’s fingers, it curved around the puffy opening before slipping inside, barely a stretch after the size of Neuvillette’s cock but a stinging sort of pleasure against his sensitive nerves. Lost in the pleasure, it took Wriothesley a long time to realise Neuvillette was lapping up his own cum still inside Wriothesley, sucking it from him and swallowing it down until Wriothesley was sure there could be nothing left. Shamefully, the thought pulled a mournful whimper from his mouth. 

That sound that was a little too soft to be a growl came again from Neuvillette, a sustained rumble as he tasted the result of their coupling, lapping at Wriothesley’s used hole like he couldn’t get enough and Wriothesley was forced to grip the edge of the desk he was spread over as his weak legs finally failed him. His knees buckled and he would have fallen if not for Neuvillette who easily caught his weight. With a final, long lick around the rim of Wriothesley’s hole, Neuvillette rose to his feet again, all the while using his leverage to twist Wriothesley onto his back on top of the desk. When Neuvillette raised both his legs to rest on his own shoulders in an exact replica of his earlier fantasy, Wriothesley had the briefest moment of clarity to wonder if the older man had somehow read his mind, before it was all washed away in sensation as Neuvillette pushed inside him once again. 

The stretch was easier the second time around, the pleasure-pain of taking something so large not as intense. Instead, all he felt was something of a longing satiated, an emptiness that Neuvillette had carved out inside him finally being filled again. He reached blindly for Neuvillette, fingers grasping for any kind of purchase and neck straining to hold his head up, searching for the one thing Neuvillette kept denying him. Even more than Neuvillette fucking him like he had all over again, he wanted the man to kiss him, craved that intimacy in the middle of a coupling that was almost too intense, too rough on his senses. Neuvillette leant over him, sliding deep inside until hips met hips and his stomach bulged, the imprint of Neuvillette’s thick cock visible as it transformed his normally flat stomach. Then, he kissed him. Wriothesley moaned, the sound a barely there breathless impression of his earlier ravaged moans. Neuvillette licked into his mouth like he had licked into his ass, giving no quarter as he devoured Wriothesley with a languid pace so different from his earlier desperate rush. When he started to move, gone were the hard thrusts from tip to base. Covering Wriothesley with his own body, bending him almost in half to get at his mouth, Neuvillette barely moved inside him, rocking gently in such a way that kept Wriothesley full at all time. The friction was just enough as the cock rubbed over his prostate to pull him towards a slow orgasm, but mostly it was the pleasure of having Neuvillette inside him to his very core that made him all but delirious. He loved the stretch, the way it moulded him; the way the tip nudged against a space inside him that no one else had ever reached, that he wasn’t entirely sure someone ever should reach, and the spark of fear it ignited in him was exhilarating. Neuvillette’s tongue in his mouth was a comfort, something to ground him in the present so he didn’t slip off into the haze like he did before and he cherished it. He wanted to experience this in a way he could remember; wanted to be able to look back on it and remember what it felt like to be with Neuvillette, to belong to Neuvillette, even if only for a short while. 

“Please,” he gasped, but still he didn’t know what he was begging for. Neuvillette was giving him everything he could want, but still a part of him craved for more. He wondered if that was really him, or if it had something to do with Neuvillette affecting him again. 

Neuvillette growled into his mouth and sank a hand into Wriothesley’s thick hair and yanked his head back. With his neck bared and his mouth unoccupied, Wriothesley couldn’t stop the keening sounds from spilling past his lips as Neuvillette buried his face underneath his chin and scraped his teeth down the entire length of his throat. 

“Yes,” he gasped when Neuvillette paused at the curve where his neck met shoulder and sucked, teeth nibbling the skin in a gentle way where Wriothesley wanted them to bite .

The shallow pace of Neuvillette’s thrusts sped up, snapping hips against ass to create a symphony of slick sounds of skin against skin and what inexplicably sounded like flesh on wood. But the split second of focus was all Wriothesley had as the sudden change in pace hurled him over the edge a second time. As his cock spurted between them, hitting his naked chest and Neuvillette’s silk shirt already clinging to him like a second skin, Wriothesley felt Neuvillette cum inside him, filling that emptiness he had left him with after the last. The feeling of overflowing pulled a last spurt from his cock and Wriothesley cried out Neuvillette’s name into the vaulted ceiling high above them; utterly spent in both body and mind, the world blackened around him and he was gone before he could even open his mouth to warn Neuvillette. 

When he came to, he was lying on something soft, still drifting in a fog of pleasant soreness with memories of Neuvillette coating his body. Blinking open dry eyes, he looked around as much as he could without lifting his head and realised he was still in Neuvillette’s office, stretched out on one of the sofas. The scratch of pen on paper told him Neuvillette had gone back to his work and the rhythmic sound was almost enough to lull him back to sleep. But he shouldn’t. He needed to get back to the fortress, back to work; he would’ve already been gone far longer than he had planned. 

The scratch of a pen came to a sudden halt, followed by the sound of a chair being pushed back and the click of heeled boots on the marble floor before Neuvillette was kneeling in front of him. He raised a hand and ran it over Wriothesley’s hair, smiling softly at Wriothesley’s tired face. 

“You should rest, that must have been quite the ordeal,” he said softly, pushing Wriothesley’s hair out of his face while resting a hand on the curve of Wriothesley’s hip over—what Wriothesley only then noticed—was Neuvillette’s own coat draped over him. He wondered where his jacket was; if maybe Neuvillette had kept it where he left it, tossed over the back of his chair. He had implied he liked his scent after all. He could tell Neuvillette had made no effort to clean them up; the space between their bodies smelled of sex and Neuvillette’s shirt still stuck to him, tacky with sweat and cum. The thought of  Neuvillette deliberately keeping their scents on him while he worked was almost enough to rouse him once again. But as usual, Neuvillette was right; he was too tired. 

“Was actually thinking we should do that again,” Wriothesley said, smiling tiredly and curling into the gentle touches of the older man’s hands. 

“We will, which is why you need to rest. Assuming you still want to; if not then now is the moment to say so,” Neuvillette said, hand tightening somewhat on Wriothesley’s hip as if to communicate his seriousness. 

Wriothesley tilted his chin up, too tired to do anything more, but Neuvillette understood and met him halfway, pressing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. 

“Want you,” Wriothesley sighed into the kiss, “want anything you can give me.” He fell asleep to the gentle sound of Neuvillette purring and the comforting touch of his hand running through his hair. 

The second time he awoke, he was completely naked under sheets of the most luxurious silk, curled on his side in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Behind him, pressed tight to his back, was what he at first thought must’ve been a furnace but quickly realised was merely Neuvillette, overheating with a desire that hit Wriothesley like a hurricane as soon as he became aware. 

“Good, you are awake,” Neuvillette rumbled and rocked against him, the thick shape of his cock parting Wriothesley’s asscheeks. 

“You should’ve woke me,” he managed, his voice a weak rasp, and pressed back against Neuvillette, wordlessly giving his consent. 

“You needed the rest, this round will be worse,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley laughed and sighed and tilted his head back so their faces aligned. 

“I wouldn’t use the word worse , exactly. If by worse you mean more , then give it to me.” 

A growl slipped past Neuvillette’s lips and he dove into Wriothesley’s throat only to stop himself again right before he bit down. 

“Why won’t you bite?” Wriothesley groaned, pushing himself as much against those sharp teeth as he did against the large cock he was trying to trap inside him. Neuvillette didn’t answer except to twine fingers into Wriothesley’s short hair to hold him still as he continued to rock against him. The head of his cock started to catch on Wriothesley’s rim with every thrust, teasing them both as it never pushed inside. Wriothesley groaned, or whined probably, the pitch was too high and wasn’t that embarrassing, and with excellent timing clenched his hole as Neuvillette pushed against it, trying to trap that wide tip before it could slip away. It was a complete failure, but the effort was clearly noted. Neuvillette grasped one of his legs and pulled it up to make more space for himself between them and thrust more viciously into the cleft of Wriothesley’s ass. With every thrust, something warm and hard slapped against Wriothesley’s thigh and he tried to twist to feel more of it, to see it, but Neuvillette held him fast. 

“What is that?” he barely managed to ask before Neuvillette suddenly adjusted his angle and finally thrust home, filling him to his core in one swift move and Wriothesley’s mind was wiped clean of anything else. 

Neuvillette had been right when he said the next round would be worse, but it was also so much better. The hours of the night slipped by unacknowledged in a haze of pleasure that only abated as the sun peeked through the high windows. At that point, Wriothesley was wrung dry in all ways yet still clinging to Neuvillette and the pleasure the older man continued to give him. Their pace had slowed over the night with every orgasm Neuvillette had given him until all they could do was rock gently against each other on the bed, trading soft kisses that were almost too intimate. The entire night had been about release, satiating an instinct that Wriothesley couldn’t really understand but had certainly enjoyed, and in contrast the morning seemed like something more. It had been a long time since the peak of orgasm had washed over Neuvillette, but he was still hard, still fucking Wriothesley with endless stamina though he had long since exchanged deep, relentless thrusts with shallow rolls of his hips. The bedding underneath them was soaked even though Neuvillette had made sure to bury himself deep in Wriothesley with every orgasm. 

Wriothesley pushed weakly at Neuvillette’s shoulder, unsure if he wanted to make it stop or not, and  Neuvillette pulled back the slightest bit and buried his face in the side of Wriothesley’s head, nose nudging apologetically behind Wriothesley’s ear. 

“I am being selfish, I know,” he murmured and stilled inside Wriothesley; the cease of friction was both a relief and an aggravation. 

“I do not want to let you go just yet. I am sorry, it is a consequence of not mating you properly.”

Wriothesley wasn’t aware enough to make sense of what Neuvillette was saying, but he liked hearing his voice; that soft baritone rumbling right next to his ear was like a warm blanket on a cold night. 

“While I have you like this I can still fool my body to think it has done what’s necessary and it will be satisfied. Rest, if you feel comfortable. I will not let any harm come to you.” 

When he had finally made his limping way back to the fortress a whole twenty-eight hours after he left it, the last thing he wanted to do was go back to work. But there was paperwork to type up, research to peruse concerning the Wingalet and an unusually tall stack of prisoner complaints to sort through. He decided to start with the easiest tasks and stretched out on the sofa in his office to leaf through the complaints to pick out the ones that actually needed his attention. 

He was halfway through when the door to his office opened and closed and the barely audible sound of light feet ascended the stairs. He could tell from the quiet thread that it was Sigewinne and so didn’t make an effort to sit up; even lying down ached, he didn’t even want to try sitting.

“Your Grace?” Sigewinne’s high voice called out as she rounded the curve in the staircase and skipped onto the landing. “You’re back already,” she said and Wriothesley could’ve sworn she sounded disappointed. 

“I would appreciate it if you don’t withhold any letters from me in the future, Sigewinne,” Wriothesley said without taking his eyes from the complaint about noisy bunkmates he was pretending to read. The clink of a glass sounded next to him and he turned his head just barely to see Sigewinne had placed one of her infamous milkshakes on the table, pulling the cup of tea he had made himself away at the same time. 

“Don’t even,” he warned, one hand shooting out to grab the cup before she could do something so heinous as empty it into a potted plant. Not that there were any nearby. Sigewinne placing a small hand on his lower stomach and humming stopped him in his tracks, hand hanging frozen in the air between them.

“I guess you don’t need it. Monsieur Neuvillette has more self-control than I thought possible.” She smiled at him as if her words made absolute sense, but Wriothesley was lost. What even was in that milkshake?

“I don’t follow, need what?” he asked, turning to rest on one elbow to watch the small Head Nurse as Sigewinne went about gathering the clearly discarded complaints and tossing them away. 

“I guess you could call it birth control, but I see Monsieur Neuvillette didn’t give you any eggs so there’s nothing to worry about,” she said, again as if what she was saying was perfectly sensible and sane. Wriothesley gaped at her for a long while before he managed to utter a single word in response.

“Eggs?!”

Chapter Text

For the next week, as his body slowly recovered from having more sex in a night than he’d had before in his life put together, Wriothesley stayed mostly in his office, sitting as little as possible, walking even less, and hoping that nothing would come up that would require him to personally intervene. The ache in his body and the persistent haze that still lingered in the back of his mind, feeding him images of his night spent with Neuvillette, would have made him an easy target for a rowdy mob. Not to mention how he was still reeling from the fact that Sigewinne had thought Neuvillette might’ve gotten him pregnant!

Him having kids was a concept he had thought impossible ever since his first intimate encounter with a fellow inmate when he was nineteen made him realise he could feel attraction and all it entailed as long as it was with men; and while he knew Neuvillette was special, surely even he couldn’t defy the laws of nature enough to change the fact that cis-gendered men didn’t get pregnant. But most men wouldn’t be shot full of eggs either. 

Could it work? Could Neuvillette have knocked him up in a fit of uncontained arousal and he would’ve been none the wiser? Would Neuvillette have known? Surely he must know whether it was a possibility if Sigewinne had worried about it, but he had never so much as insinuated anything of the like. Even after going so far as to hold himself back when it must’ve been painful just to ensure he had Wriothesley’s explicit consent, it hadn’t occurred to him to mention the not insignificant fact that he might get pregnant. 

Angry as the thought made him, he couldn’t quite manage to believe the thought that Neuvillette could be someone who would do that, at least not intentionally. The Chief Justice was the staunchest follower of rules and propriety that Wriothesley had ever known, but more than that he was a good man. He wouldn’t put Wriothesley at risk like that without his consent so surely it couldn’t have been the case, no matter what Sigewinne had assumed. 

“Your Grace?” Sigewinne’s high voice was unusually reserved when she called out to him from the topmost step of the stairs, but it was only to be expected. The Head Nurse had mostly kept her distance from him in the last week and Wriothesley couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He wasn’t actually mad at her, after all. Yes, she shouldn’t have kept Neuvillette’s letter from him, but she had good intentions; even if those intentions were a bit too intrusive for his taste. Another thing he couldn’t quite reconcile in the aftermath was that the innocent Melusine had conspired to make him a willing recipient for Neuvillette’s mating instincts. She had, quite literally, wished him good luck all the while knowing he was about to get fucked into oblivion. 

“What is it, Sigewinne?” he asked, placing his book face down on his chest so he could see her. She was holding one of his tea cups between her hands, but he could see a hint of foam along the rim and would not be fooled. All week she had tried to feed him with her special milkshakes, to the point that it had become something of a game to Wriothesley whether his next blind sip would be a soothing tea or something decidedly more vomit-inducing. 

“I have a letter for you, it’s from Monsieur Neuvillette. He wanted to warn you that we might receive a difficult prisoner today, and suggested that you handle the transfer personally as long as you felt up to it,” she said and placed the cup on the low table to fish a small slip of paper from her purse.  At least she gave it to him this time, even if she had already read it in full. 

“If I’m up to it? I hope he’s not beginning to doubt my ability,” he quipped, mostly joking, though offended at the wording. Sigewinne, who was usually so good at knowing when he was being serious and not, looked at him with wide eyes. 

“I’m sure Monsieur Neuvillette is only thinking about your physical health since your time with him. He did ask after you once; I told him you wouldn’t drink any of my nutritious milkshakes, but that he shouldn’t worry.” 

So they had been talking about him for a change? Usually he was the one fielding questions from the Iudex about Sigewinne. Sometimes he felt like he and Neuvillette might be one of those divorced couples and he had gotten custody of their child; the man certainly acted like Sigewinne was his daughter. 

“He shouldn’t,” he said and, as if to prove a point, hoisted himself into sitting with his bare feet on the floor despite how it still caused a sting in his behind. He had never gone so many days still feeling the effects of a cock in his ass before, which might say something about the amount of pain he had actually been in that Neuvillette didn’t let him feel at the time. 

“I am fully capable of handling myself and any amount of rowdy prisoners.”

Sigewinne watched him silently for a long moment as Wriothesley went back to his book; it was a ridiculously nonsensical but highly entertaining bit of history concerning the various desert tribes of Sumeru that Wriothesley, with no formal education on the subject, would classify as more historical fiction than anything. He doubted the fontanian scholar who wrote it had ever even gotten sand in his boots. 

“Excuse me for saying this, Your Grace, but you’re easily distracted these days. It’s normal for the mind to be a bit preoccupied after experiencing a mating, I’m sure Monsieur Neuvillette is only thinking about the ways he might have temporarily weakened you and is not making a comment about your capability.” Sigewinne punctuated her words with pushing the tea cup of doom closer to him, and for once Wriothesley was tempted to drink it, if only so Sigewinne would stop talking about how he’d “experienced a mating”. She was all together too knowledgeable about such things. 

“Well he shouldn’t be,” he said and pushed to his feet, his book discarded on the table with the untouched milkshake. “I suppose I should get ready then if I’m to attend a trial today.” He stepped into his boots one after the other, pulling them up his thighs and tightening the many straps. 

“The trial isn’t for another three hours, Your Grace,” Sigewinne called after him as he descended the stairs but he didn’t bother replying. Sometimes you needed three hours to prepare for a face to face with the man who fucked you good enough to scramble your insides the last time you saw him. 

“You should wear that amber perfume, the scent is really nice!” Sigewinne yelled just as he exited his office, intentionally or not leaving him to field the inquisitive looks of several guards and a passing prisoner on his way out. 

In the end, he listened, not because of any reason Sigewinne might think but because the “amber perfume” had a nice, subtle scent of jasmine and cedar wood that he personally enjoyed. He ended up making good time and so lingered on the underwater aquabus line, leaning against the wall to look out at the colourful seascape beyond the large windows. This was his favourite spot in all of Fontaine; the corals and plants were especially teeming at this depth, but the best part about it was that he could always be sure to see at least one of the cute little otters that lived in Fontaine lake. He liked watching them do their little dance with the shells, their smooth, looping movements were almost hypnotic in the way they always managed to calm him down. Luckily, there were two of them, swimming around just beyond the glass. 

He needed to get his head on straight before meeting Neuvillette, but more than that he needed to have his wits about him if the prisoner he would most likely be escorting this way soon was really as bad as the Iudex claimed. And Wriothesley didn’t doubt it; Neuvillette had warned him specifically about detainees only a handful of times before and they had all been the worst of the worst. Most of them suffering from some form of mental disturbance; all of them men who killed to feel powerful. The last one had hit a bit too close to home for Wriothesley; a single man who had killed his parents in a premeditated act. Neuvillette had watched him closely that day, a worried frown drawing his normally impassive face. But he hadn’t said anything, probably already then knowing that Wriothesley would not appreciate it. Still, it had been nice to know Neuvillette had his back; he couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt that. Of course, the man in question had no reason to kill, his parents were innocents and the only thing he sought was that feeling of power, and all  Wriothesley felt for him was disgust. Today, that man might get a cellmate; he wondered which of them would last the night. 

If Neuvillette knew he intentionally placed the worst ones in cells together for this exact reason, he probably wouldn’t approve, but Wriothesley didn’t want to deal with more than one psychotic killer at a time. Also, he didn’t really care. While he had made many changes to the fortress—all for the betterment of the people in exile—he was still the Warden and the rule was as it always had been, that the Warden was above all rules. 

Thoughts of former Wardens had the same effect of putting things into perspective as it always had, and Wriothesley almost turned on his heel to find the nearest washroom and wash away any trace of effort he had gone to to make himself appealing as rationality washed over him like a bucket of ice water. His position was no less precarious than the last Warden’s had been, and all of a sudden he could see clear as day the riot it would set off if it somehow became known to the prisoners that the administrator of their place of exile was looking to spread his legs for the man who had cast their sentence. One time they could hide, possibly. He wasn’t the only one aware of his own schedule and he hadn’t exactly gone to any lengths to hide it when he came ambling back a whole day after he had left for his meeting with Neuvillette. 

If he wanted to keep his position, he would have to be more careful. Some of the long-term inmates who knew him from his own time as a prisoner already heckled him for being gay; it would be in his best interest not to give them any more ammunition. Not that he was worried about any of them individually, but strength in numbers was never to be underestimated and the rampant toxic masculinity amongst those same long-term prisoners was contagious. 

A knock on the glass pulled him from his thoughts and Wriothesley looked up to see one of the otters had turned its attention to him and was knocking its shell against the window. 

“Thanks buddy,” he said, smiled and put a hand up to the glass. The otter knocked its shell against it three more times, the dull thud thud thud echoing against the metal walls around him. 

“I’ll come swimming with you soon then you can give it to me,” he said and pondered not for the first time on the practicality of keeping a pet in his office. 

Spirits effectively lightened, he finally made his way to the stairs leading to the surface, and the impressive Opera house that after almost two decades still held the power to decide his fate. 

The trial went as expected; the accused sentenced to a lifetime in prison for his crimes—crimes so brutal the testimonies were almost too much for the entertainment-hungry audience. The mood was dismal, a heavy cloud of terror hung over the room as the perpetrator's teenaged son described in detail all the horrors he had witnessed his own father commit on the young women he brought home. The boy’s mother was almost too tear-choked to speak, but her testimony was just as damning. Wriothesley didn’t need an intuitive sense to recognise the misplaced guilt in her tears; she was the one that got away, and because she did, other women had paid the price. 

Neuvillette had been right to call on him; the accused had said not a single word for the entire length of the short trial, but had instead stood leant over the balcony railing, smiling at everyone as if all of it was a joke only he was in on. There was something ominous about him that Wriothesley didn’t trust, and he didn’t trust any of the gardes to handle him properly. The worst criminals to handle were the smart ones; he knew that very well considering he had once been one of them. When Neuvillette gave the man his sentence—that authoritative voice not wavering in the slightest even though  Wriothesley, fortunate as he was, knew Neuvillette well enough to see that the trial had affected him—the man only bowed to Neuvillette and then to the audience before allowing the gardes to escort him from the balcony without a fuss. 

Wriothesley hurried behind the scene, hoping to catch Neuvillette if only for a second before he had to escort the prisoner to his new, hopefully extremely temporary, home. He needn’t have worried as Neuvillette was waiting for him in the room behind his judicial seat. 

For a long moment, they merely watched each other, remembering the circumstances of their last meeting and wondering whether or not it had changed something in their usual dynamic. Wriothesley was the first to make a move. 

“Hey,” he said and lifted a hand in an awkward greeting. 

“Hello,” Neuvillette responded, face impassive as ever. “I assume your presence here means you have recovered. That is good; I’m sure you can understand why I felt it prudent that you were the one to escort this particular criminal.” He was sure Neuvillette meant no harm, but the reiteration of the words written in his letter dug out again that initial anger he had felt at the presumed slight and amplified it tenfold. 

“Don’t do that again,” he said, his throat and chest so tight with repressed emotion that the words were all but forced out. 

“Excuse me?” Neuvillette said, his confusion drawing him several steps closer to Wriothesley as if proximity might help him understand the human more. 

“Just because I let you fuck me open on your monstrously large cock for an entire night does not mean that you have the allowance to doubt my capability. If you want me to escort a criminal personally then you tell me, don’t make assumptions just because you now know what I get off to in bed.” 

They had drawn close together during Wriothesley’s accusing rant, but while he on other days might’ve felt a tingle of excitement at being so close to the older man, all Wriothesley felt was annoyed. There was nothing to tell him from Neuvillette’s face if his words had made an impact. The still surface of the other man remained unmoved, not a ripple to be seen, but when Wriothesley scoffed and made to move around the man and leave, Neuvillette’s hand shot out to grasp his wrist in a shackling grip. 

“My apologies, it was never my intention to show doubt in your capability,” Neuvillette began and Wriothesley turned his face away when he realised he couldn’t move. As far as apologies went, this was a weak one, but as usual, Neuvillette found ways to surprise him. 

“But if you are implying that I would somehow think less of you because you enjoyed submitting to me in the way you did then you could not be more wrong. There is strength in giving yourself to another so completely that I could never find, if I am anything then it is impressed. 

I am aware of our differences and I am constantly reminded of the fragility of humans, but I have never doubted you, Wriothesley. On the contrary, I am time and again amazed at just how capable you are.”

Wriothesley wanted to look at Neuvillette, to search out the sincerity in his eyes that he could hear very well in his voice, but he couldn’t make himself face him. He wasn’t good with compliments and what Neuvillette was saying was so much more than that; it was a show of trust that Wriothesley didn’t think he deserved. 

“Having said that, I want you to know that my worry stems not from my belief in you but rather my doubt in myself. I lost control with you that night; I fed you too much of my own feelings and urges that I feared it had left a more permanent mark. I am glad to see I was wrong.”

He wanted to ask what a permanent mark would have looked like, but it wasn’t the right time for that kind of talk. They would need to have it, that much was clear, but it was decidedly an after-work type of talk. As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door and a female voice called out for them. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, Your Grace, the prisoner is ready for transfer,” the garde said and Wriothesley took a deep breath to collect himself and placed his free hand on top of Neuvillette’s hand holding him still. 

“Back to work, I guess,” he said, lingering with his hand on Neuvillette’s after the man released him. “We need to talk, obviously. Do you have time today?” 

Neuvillette looked at him for a moment longer, then a smile appeared in the corner of his mouth as if afraid to fully emerge but unable to hide. 

“I will be in my office the rest of the day, you are welcome at any time,” he said as his fingers curled again around Wriothesley’s wrist, gentler than before. Something had changed between them, that was for sure, and Wriothesley needed to ascertain whether that was simply an easier physicality or something more. 

“I’ll come by later then, might grab some dinner on the way.” He left the sentence open-ended, but Neuvillette filled it without hesitation. 

“I am partial to seafood, but the choice is yours. As long as it is not too spicy.”

Wriothesley smiled and for a second he wanted to lean in and kiss Neuvillette, but he squashed the impulse. As much as this talk was beginning to sound like a date, it was in fact not, and he was working and not in fact seducing the Chief Justice. Again. 

“I’ll see you later then,” he said and, hesitating only a moment more, finally crossed the room to the door opposite the one he’d entered, a calm settling over his mind as soon as he opened the door to the gardes waiting on the other side, the monster of a man shackled between them. 

“Administrator,” the man said, the smile on his face as calm as if this was a chance meeting in the Court of Fontaine and not the aftermath of a murder trial. 

“You are flushed, Monsieur. Is the Chief Justice that interesting?” 

Wriothesley hadn’t realised, but as the man pointed it out he could feel the heat diffusing his face. It was subtle, but the man was observant; Wriothesley felt the shuddering creep of disquiet at being seen as they stared each other down for a long moment in silence. 

“You wouldn’t believe the jokes that man can tell,” he said before turning to the gardes, deciding the best course of action was to not give the man the attention he craved. 

“You take the lead, I’ll follow behind. I told them to expect us at the fortress so there shouldn’t be any distractions along the way.”

The transfer went seamless, but Wriothesley was sure it was only because he was there to draw the man’s attention. He stared at Wriothesley the entire aquabus ride, a smile always curving his mouth, and while Wriothesley was unaffected, the gardes bracketing the man were both fidgeting, on edge from the unnerving silence of the man. While they processed his file in the administration hall, the man turned as good as he could to keep Wriothesley in his line of sight and that’s when the comments began. 

“I heard you got your position through force, we should have a duel sometime.”

“Those are some impressive boots, good for kneeling I assume.”

“You’re on good terms with the Chief Justice then? Interesting.”

Eventually the comments amounted to such mass that Wriothesley tuned them out; he knew the man was trying to get under his skin and he wouldn’t let him. Clearly realising it wasn’t working, the man changed tactics once they reached the main area of the fortress. He could greet several inmates by name and the smile on his face grew more and more smug with every greeting he received in return. Wriothesley quickly caught on to what he was doing; the warm greetings tallied up to high numbers, and with every one the man was telling him he already had a large network in the fortress, and if he wanted to he could overthrow Wriothesley with their help. 

When they reached the hallway in the lower level where he placed the ones he didn’t want to see, Wriothesley took the lead from the gardes.  

“I can take it from here, you may leave,” he said, all the while holding eye contact with the prisoner. The walk through the fortress has cemented it for him and he didn’t need any outside witnesses to how he did his job. The man smiled at him still and Wriothesley felt a well of disgust rise in him. 

“Go,” he said when the gardes lingered. Only when they had gotten back in the elevator and it was taking them back up did Wriothesley move. Turning on his heel, he tugged harshly at the shackles holding the prisoner, causing him to stumble. 

“Gérard, got a new friend for you,” he called out as he unlocked the cell door, one of ten and the only one already occupied. 

“I don’t even get my own room, administrator?” The man asked, his smarmy voice grating Wriothesley’s ears. 

“New kids get to share,” Wriothesley said and tugged the man into the cell to meet its current occupant. Gérard was a tall man with considerable bulk and when he rose from his cot he towered over both Wriothesley and his new cellmate. 

“Have fun getting to know each other, dinner is at six,” he said and left the cell, closing the door before the two men had finished sizing each other up. 

“Hey! You didn’t remove these,” the new prisoner yelled and raised his still bound hands, shaking them so the shackles rattled loudly in the otherwise quiet space. 

“Oh, the shackles stay, just a precaution. You forget, I just got a detailed rendition of just what you’re capable of and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to our dear Gérard on your first night here,” he said before leaving with a wave over his shoulder. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur, his mind mostly occupied with his upcoming meeting with Neuvillette, but when the clock turned five and he gathered his things to leave he did so with a half-written report on the unfortunate death of a newly instated prisoner still in his typewriter. 

Chapter Text

Neuvillette’s apartment was on the third level of the Palais Mermonia; the single door on the staircase landing evidence enough of the size of the place, even from outside. Wriothesley had seen it as he left it a week ago, but hadn’t been aware enough to take any of it in; now he waited, two bags of hot food in his hands, as Neuvillette unlocked the stately door and welcomed him inside. The entrance room was a pale beige with blue accents and was sparsely furnished. A side table was pushed against the left wall, so similar in colour that it looked as if it had simply grown out of the wall, and Wriothesley placed the bags of food next to the single lamp occupying the surface so he could pull off his boots. As Neuvillette lifted one foot to remove his own shoes, Wriothesley was caught by the motion, falling into a trancelike state as he watched those thin, gloved fingers undo the fastenings of spats around shoes one after the other. The golden-heeled shoes were shorter than Wriothesley had expected and when Neuvillette toed them off, the fastening of the spats hang loosely around his feet and the lighter blue hem of his trousers peeked out and Wriothesley got a feeling he was doing something illegal just by being allowed to see that . 

“We will eat at the dining table; go left at the end of the hallway,” Neuvillette said and took the food with him as he left. Wriothesley felt his cheeks flush at the lilt of amusement in Neuvillette’s voice and knew he had been caught looking. With no man-shaped distraction, undoing and tugging off his boots was quick work and after hanging his coat on one of the tasteful iron hooks on the wall, Wriothesley hurried after Neuvillette into the man’s opulent apartment. The end of the hallway opened up to a large, paned window, twice as tall as Wriothesley, stretching from floor to ceiling and showing a spectacular view of the Court of Fontaine. It curved gently to a sharp point and the top half of the window was set with glazed glass depicting an abstract scene similar to the seascape Wriothesley had admired just that morning. He hadn’t been prepared to find a replica of the view that always managed to put him at peace right there in Neuvillette’s apartment, but somehow it felt right. 

“Wriothesley?” Neuvillette’s voice so close to his ear startled him; he hadn’t even heard him, the glass painting had ensnared him so. 

“The view is nice,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice came out sounding hoarse. 

“Mm, yes. Though I prefer the one from the dining room,” Neuvillette said as he moved to stand beside Wriothesley, so close that his chest brushed Wriothesley’s shoulder. It felt natural, touching Neuvillette in ways like this, casual, almost thoughtless. They stayed there a moment longer in silence before Neuvillette rested a hand on Wriothesley’s lower back and gently guided him on. Wriothesley resisted the touch in the hope that Neuvillette would put more force behind it and he was not disappointed. 

“The food will grow cold,” Neuvillette said as he drew Wriothesley away, fingers digging into his waist. 

The view from the dining room was indeed spectacular, but Wriothesley was a bit surprised that Neuvillette, who was always so interested in humanity and its ways, would prefer a view of nature over the bustling streets of the city. It was more to Wriothesley’s taste as well; the quiet serenity of nature devoid of people. The table was set and Wriothesley felt a bit of a thrill at the domesticity of it all before he shoved it aside. There was no room for that kind of thinking; the last time he had any kind of domestic feelings it turned out to be a farce. 

Neuvillette ran his hand over Wriothesley’s back as he removed it then hesitated with one hand on the chair in front of them. 

“You don’t have to pull my seat out.” Wriothesley made the decision for him by pulling the chair out himself and sitting down. Best to avoid any gestures that might make this feel like more than what it was. 

Neuvillette took the seat across from him and for once his face was easy to read; there was a frown that was both worried and inquisitive and Wriothesley knew that there was something on his face he hadn’t been able to hide. 

“I hope the crab is to your liking, I picked one that shouldn’t be too spicy,” he said to divert from whatever Neuvillette had seen. He had ordered the same for both of them—crab meat in a creamy oyster soup served under a lid of bread—and the smell was enough to make his mouth water. 

“It is. I have had this particular dish once before and remember it fondly,” Neuvillette said, allowing the diversion. 

“Only you can say things in such a formal way and not have it sound awkward,” Wriothesley said, because he had had that thought several times and never dared voice it. 

“I am glad to hear that, I do not want to make you feel awkward around me, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley only smiled, deciding against pointing out that that’s not exactly what he meant. 

“A bit awkwardness is to be expected though, considering,” he said as he cracked his spoon—silver, of course—against the bread and dipped it into the soup underneath. 

“Ah, yes. Considering our liaison,” Neuvillette hummed and then they ate in silence for several minutes, neither of them certain of how to continue the conversation now that they had breached the topic in question. The soup had cooled a little on the walk from the restaurant, leaving it at an optimal temperature for eating and Wriothesley savoured the taste; it really was as good as it smelled.

Neuvillette finished first and was clearly determined not to give Wriothesley a break as he picked up the conversation after carefully wiping his mouth on a cotton napkin. 

“It is quite clear to me that our night together has shifted something between us, it is only to be expected. I was at fault this time for thinking that my attention would be as welcomed outside of my bed as inside it and I apologise for making that assumption. I assure you that i never doubted that you would-“

“That’s,” Wriothesley interrupted, holding up a hand to stall the other man. “We’ve been over that, it’s okay. Even when I was mad at you I knew deep down that you hadn’t meant it the way I interpreted it. I … there’s something else, rather, that I want to talk about. Well, it’s related, I guess.”

Wriothesley regretted not thinking more about what he wanted to say to Neuvillette and what he wanted to get out of their conversation, because what he was about to say had definitely not been in his plans. 

“I have always … suspected that I would enjoy submitting to a partner, but I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve felt safe enough to do so. When you pinned me to your desk and I couldn’t move, for a brief moment I panicked, but then I remembered that I was with you and it was okay. But I’ve had some time to think since then and so I started wondering if that was actually my own thoughts or if you had somehow influenced me, please!” He held up a hand again when Neuvillette started to interrupt. “Let me speak now or I won’t say it.”

He continued when Neuvillette nodded, hurrying to get the words out if only to wipe that look of despair from Neuvillette’s face. 

“And then you unwittingly pushed a nerve with that letter. Part of what’s held me back from exploring that side of me, is the … fear, I guess, of being viewed differently because of it. I grew up in an environment filled with toxic masculinity and survival of the fittest and all that where I got hounded simply for liking men, where even other men who were like me would look down on me if I was a little too enthusiastic about sucking their cock. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any sort of self-hatred for the things I like and the ways I like them, but that type of … conditioning, I guess, is difficult to toss. 

But I know now that it wasn’t you, I think I always knew it but I might’ve been looking for an excuse, I don’t know. The reason I was able to submit to your control so completely and enjoy it to such an extent was because it was with you. Because I trust you.” 

He had never said those words to anyone before. His trust was hard-earned, but Neuvillette had earned it, probably long before Wriothesley was even aware of it himself. He remembered standing on that balcony during his own trial, barely tall enough to be seen over the railing, terrified but still so certain of the Chief Justice, sure that his fate was secure in his hands. And when they met again for the first time in an official capacity—when he had dug his vision out and displayed it for the first time in almost fifteen years—Neuvillette had taken one look at him and congratulated him and Wriothesley had felt welcomed, had felt like less of an intruder simply because the Iudex had acknowledged him. Ever since, he had craved Neuvillette’s approval and the thought that he might now look weaker in the man’s eyes because of what they did together was enough to almost shatter him. 

“Thank you for telling me that, and thank you, Wriothesley, for trusting me. I am truly honoured,” Neuvillette said after a lengthy moment of comfortable silence. 

“I want you to know that I do not take this lightly. That after everything you have been through, you have chosen to put your trust in me is a great privilege.” Neuvillette took a deep breath and pushed his plate aside, the corners of his mouth tightening in a small grimace. 

“I did not know such attitudes were in such abundance in the Fortress of Meropide,” he said, not meeting Wriothesley’s eyes, a hint of anger in his voice. It was not misplaced anger, and was even understandable. Homophobia was a rare thing in Fontaine, at least outside the aristocratic class where bloodlines and heritage were more important, but attitudes changed under pressure. 

“It’s not so bad now. Unlike the previous warden, I crack down pretty hard on violence and harassment based on sex, gender and sexuality. It also kind of renders mute the argument that gay men are weaker or lesser when the guy at the top of the food chain is a gay man.” 

Neuvillette smiled finally, meeting Wriothesley’s eyes over the table. 

“So your interest is exclusively in men then?” he asked and Wriothesley answered that with only a raised eyebrow and a shrug of his shoulder, that part should be obvious enough already. 

“What about you?” he asked, suddenly curious where before he hadn’t cared. 

“I have never thought about it. What attracts me is different then what attracts you, I believe; you are appealing to me as a potential mate because of the special characteristics that make you , but also because of the way you always smell of tea leaves and the deep sea. It is an enchanting scent at the best of times, while I am in a rut it is downright bewitching.”

The mention of rut, an unfamiliar word for a very familiar concept, sent a bolt of interest through Wriothesley that, judging by the way Neuvillette’s smile turned slightly smug, the man clearly picked up on. Deciding to hell with it, he wanted this, Wriothesley pushed his own plate aside and rested his arms on the table, leaning over it. 

“You said something earlier about how submitting requires a type of strength that you don’t have?” He phrased it as a question, leaving the thread dangling for Neuvillette to pick up. 

“Yes, it is not something I am inclined to do,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley relished the way his eyes darkened just a little. 

“Is that just a personal preference when it comes to sex or does it have something to do with the mating instincts and all that?” he asked, tracing patterns with his fingers on the dark wood of the dining table. It wasn’t like him to be so coy, but Neuvillette brought out sides of him he hadn’t even known about and he wanted to explore every single one of them. 

“I do not see how these things are separate,” Neuvillette said and reached out to take Wriothesley’s wandering fingers between his own. At first the words were simply innocuous, but as Wriothesley properly took them in something nagged at his mind. 

“Neuvillette,” he began, still forming the question in his mind. “Have you never had sex outside of a rut?” 

The silence in the room was so complete Wriothesley felt he could choke on it. 

“Why would I do that?” Neuvillette asked after a long moment, shoulders stiff though his fingers still gently clasped Wriothesley’s. A memory hit him then, of Neuvillette saying he didn’t remember ever taking a mate before and suddenly something became very clear to Wriothesley even as it made no sense at all. That had been Neuvillette’s first time; and driven solely by instinct, he had given Wriothesley the best fuck of his life. 

“Well, for pleasure,” Wriothesley said, deciding to focus on Neuvillette’s question rather than his own revelation. “For fun and for the sake of intimacy, to have that connection with another person even if only for a short time.”

Neuvillette was silent, but Wriothesley could tell the concept had intrigued him. The way the older man’s eyes ran over his form, flicking between his face and the open collar of his shirt, told him exactly what Neuvillette was thinking of. 

“If you want to then we can,” he said, trailing off as Neuvillette was already nodding his head, seemingly an unconscious action as he flushed a moment later once he realised. Wriothesley suppressed a smile and pushed his chair back from the table, rising slowly to move around the table to Neuvillette. With a hand on Neuvillette’s shoulder, he pushed the man back into his seat and swung a leg over his lap, but before he could sit down, Neuvillette’s strong hand took him by the hip. 

“If we are to do this, there is something you need to know as I do not think I can hide it from you a second time,” he said and, curious about Neuvillette’s words and hindered by his hand, Wriothesley sat on the table instead, legs spread to either side of Neuvillette’s seated form. 

“I told you before that my physical form is humanoid and while this is not a lie, it is not completely true either. My anatomy differs from yours in a not insignificant way.” Neuvillette stopped then, clearly hesitant to say what he felt he needed to say. 

“Well, your cock felt mostly humanoid, except for the size,” Wriothesley smiled and rubbed his thumb over Neuvillette’s shoulder. 

“That is only what I allowed you to feel,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley sighed with pleasure as hands ran up his calves to his knees. 

“My cock is fairly normal, yes,” Neuvillette said and something in Wriothesley protested the word normal . “But I also have something called an ovipositor. It works in the same way except that while I am in rut it also produces eggs for fertilisation.”

“I knew I felt something else against me that night!” Wriothesley burst out before his brain caught up with the words and their meaning. 

“Eggs, he said, a chill washing over him as he realised Sigewinne hadn’t been messing with him. 

“I meant to ask you about that,” he said, feeling faint. “Sigewinne was under the impression you may have impregnated me.”

Neuvillette sighed, a rare moment of frustration with the independent Melusine. 

“I would not have done that without your consent, rut or not,” he said and his hands moved further up Wriothesley’s legs, a comforting touch that was only sexual because Wriothesley wanted it to be. 

“But you could? In theory?” he asked, his own hand moving to the back of Neuvillette’s neck, burying under the thick fall of his hair. 

“In theory, yes, but only during a rut. Then I would first give you my eggs from my ovipositor and then I would fertilise them with my penis. When I am not in rut it gets erect and ejaculates just like any other cock .” The last word was said with such intentional weight Wriothesley couldn’t be blamed for what it did to him. 

“Fuck,” he exhaled and tipped forward while pulling at Neuvillette’s neck and they met in the middle in a kiss that was pure hunger. Leaning on Neuvillette was like leaning on a mountain wall and Wriothesley took full advantage of that. Feet dangling off the floor, he was balancing precariously on the edge of the table as they kissed, but Neuvillette’s hands held him fast. They hadn’t kissed much the last time, at least that Wriothesley could remember, and Neuvillette was more hesitant about that than he had been about any other part of Wriothesley’s body, but it was good. It was warm and intense and it was good . 

“I want to see you,” Wriothesley murmured in a brief pause before diving back in, moaning at the touch of Neuvillette’s lips to his own and sucking Neuvillette’s tongue into his mouth. 

“I want to taste you,” he said next, overcome with the need to fully explore the newness of a lover like Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette made a questioning sound and Wriothesley smiled, realising that of course that would be new to Neuvillette as well. Continuing to smile, Wriothesley pushed at Neuvillette until he sat back and released him—that he couldn’t just pull himself loose was a thrill of its own—and then he sank to his knees in front of him. One of Neuvillette’s hands moved immediately to rest on the top of his head, but not, as Wriothesley quickly realised, to guide him in any way, but to keep him from bumping his head against the table above him. 

“Tell me if you ever want to stop,” Wriothesley said and then moved his hands to the front of Neuvillette’s trousers, popping the buttons one by one until he could push the folds aside and get his hand beyond them. He could feel the outline of Neuvillette’s cock slowly hardening under his fingers, but it was nothing like the size he knew it could grow to. But he figured it only made sense that Neuvillette would be a grower and not a shower; for one, he would need a more modest coat to cover himself in public if that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t feel any sign of the second cock yet and the curiosity burned in him, he needed to know what that looked like. 

Dipping the fingers of both hands into the hem of Neuvillette’s trousers and pants, Wriothesley tugged at them, looking up at Neuvillette to better communicate his intent. Neuvillette hummed and lifted his hips enough to let Wriothesley pull his clothes off all at once, spats and all. What greeted him was pale skin and something blue and shimmery that looked almost like scales, stretching over defined hips and thin, muscular thighs. In between them, Neuvillette’s cock was slowly hardening, growing longer and thicker as Wriothesley watched. Maintaining eye contact with Neuvillette, Wriothesley leant forward and slowly curled his tongue around the head; the way Neuvillette’s fingers dug into his scalp in reaction made him smile and so he did it again, even taking the very tip of the cock into his mouth to suck on it for a brief moment.

“This is what’s called a blowjob,” he said lightly when he pulled back and Neuvillette hummed, gentling his fingers to sift them through Wriothesley’s hair.

“I have heard of this concept, the name is quite nonsensical,” Neuvillette said, but still he guided Wriothesley back to his cock with a firm hand on the back of his head. 

“The act however, is quite enjoyable,” he said and Wriothesley delighted in the hint of a growl that had already found its way into the warm tone of his voice. He took the head of Neuvillette’s cock back in his mouth, sucking gently, taking a little more with every suck until the tip nudged against his throat, the length fully stiff and erect in Wriothesley’s mouth. It was a fraction of the size it had been when Neuvillette had been in rut, but it still stretched the circumference of Wriothesley’s lips. The more he ran his tongue over the sides the more he took notice of the shape and how it differed from a human man’s cock. There were small ridges under the head that grew hard the more he flicked his tongue over them and doing so had Neuvillette groaning and slumping in his seat. Wriothesley took note of all of this; he planned to be far more active in giving Neuvillette pleasure than he had been the last time they had sex.

After a particularly deep suck on Neuvillette’s cock, Wriothesley felt something nudge his throat from the outside and quickly pulled off at the reminder that he had so much more than just the one cock to explore.

While Neuvillette’s cock had looked perfectly human, the thing that was slowly appearing beneath it was anything but. Growing out of a shallow fold underneath Neuvillette’s cock, his ovipositor was phallic in shape, but that was also where the similarities ended. It was wide at the head, with a slit large enough to fit Wriothesley’s thumb, and the length was covered in plump, circular ridges that pulsed intermittently. And it was entirely blue and shimmered in the lamplight. When Wriothesley wrapped his hand around it, it pulsed, the entire length widening for a brief moment as if it was breathing.

“That’ll be the muscles to aid in the egg laying,” Neuvillette said, his voice tense, and when Wriothesley looked up at him he could see how his body had stiffened; clearly he was nervous of Wriotesley’s reaction. Instead of saying how he felt—which was that he had never seen anything more arousing—he leant down, his eyes locked on Neuvillette’s, and guided the wide head of the ovipositor into his mouth. The texture of it was different as well, smooth as glass with only the barest of grooves where one tiny scale bled into another. He kissed along the length; ran his tongue over every inch of it and sucked on the muscular ridges one by one until he reached the base. Satisfied with his exploration, he sat back and took both cocks in a hand, feeling their differences in weight and shape in his palms before gently folding them up towards Neuvillette’s stomach. Doing so pulled at Neuvillette’s balls and they both moaned in chorus, Wriothesley willfully muffling himself by burying his face between the testicles to inhale Neuvillette’s musk. He licked around the base of the ovipositor and into the shallow folds on either side, feeling more scale-like skin there as well. 

“Does it retract? Like, does it disappear completely when you’re not hard or is it still there?” He rested his cheek on Neuvillette's left thigh and looked up at the older man, utterly content to stay on his knees for him. 

“I suppose the most accurate word for it is that it folds into itself until it does, in a way, disappear. The muscles expand when my body recognizes the potential to mate, which is what pushes it to the outside.” Neuvillette ran his hand over Wriothesley’s hair and smiled down at him and that simple act alone was enough to pull Wriothesley under; his breath came harder and the world around them blurred until all he could see was Neuvillette and all he could think was how much he wanted to please him. He pulled himself up from resting on Neuvillette’s thigh and took his cock in his mouth as deep as he could in one go, guiding his ovipositor to rest against his throat as he swallowed so he could feel the pressure of them both inside and outside. Neuvillette growled and dug his fingers into Wriothesley’s hair, but there his grip turned gentle—he didn’t need to use strength to get Wriothesley to do as he commanded. He alternated between them this way, getting the cock far enough into his throat that he choked on it, while the ovipositor had grown so large he could barely fit half of it in his mouth. His own cock was left forgotten and aching, pushing at the front of his trousers. 

Feeling bold, Wriothesley pushed his mouth onto the ovipositor, ignoring how it stretched his lips uncomfortably and powered through when it made him gag, determined to take it all. 

“Wriothesley, don’t hurt yourself,” Neuvillette warned and tugged on Wriothesley’s hair with little strength. If he wanted to he could have easily pulled Wriothesley off, and the fact that he didn’t even try only spurred Wriothesley on. Just a little more; his lips bumped against the bottommost ridge of muscle and Wriothesley couldn’t breath, his throat was bulging uncomfortably with the head of Neuvillette’s ovipositor but he didn’t want to stop. He needed to show Neuvillette how much he wanted this. His nose brushed against the curve where ovipositor meshed into the cock above and it sent Wriothesley flying off like a rubber band being pulled, coughing and breathing deeply, chest rattling with the effort. 

Neuvillette’s cool hand settled gently on his throat and immediately breathing was easier and the ache dulled. 

“Well done, my sweet. Well done,” Neuvillette murmured and bent to press soft kisses to Wriothesley’s tear-streaked face. The praise went straight to Wriothesley’s head. 

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna get reckless,” he said, his voice hoarse, referring to the soothing touch Neuvillette had given his throat. It was the same hydro-affected touch he had given him during the rut they spent together that had eased his aches and healed his bruises. Neuvillette only smiled and placed one last kiss on Wriothesley’s lips. 

“You have been so good to me, allow me to give you pleasure now,” Neuvillette said and without waiting for a reply rose from his chair, taking Wriothesley with him as easily as if he was filled with nothing but goose feathers. Forced to stand on his own shaky legs, Wriothesley could only hold onto Neuvillette’s shoulders as the man undid his trousers and pushed them down his thighs—the image a near replica of the time in Neuvillette’s office. He half expected to be turned around and pushed over the table they had just had their dinner on and he would have welcomed it; he would have let Neuvillette bend him over any surface he wanted. But Neuvillette only dropped to his knees to pull Wriothesley’s trousers over his feet one after the other before he rose to unbutton Wriothesley’s waistcoat and shirt. 

“Tell me what you want, my sweet.” Neuvillette pressed his mouth to the shell of Wriothesley’s ear, nipping gently on the cartilage. Undressed in the blink of an eye, Wriothesley was incapable of aligning his thoughts into comprehensible words. That haze was slipping over his mind again, but somehow he didn’t think it was anything Neuvillette was doing to him this time. All he knew was that he was safe in Neuvillette’s arms and he didn’t have to think or make any kind of decisions as long as Neuvillette was holding him like this. All that mattered was what he wanted, and he wanted only one thing. 

“Fuck me with this,” he moaned, grasping for Neuvillette’s ovipositor without finding it. He didn’t have to be more specific for Neuvillette to understand and the man hoisted him into his arms and Wriothesley felt his cock jerk followed by the trickle of precum from the head at the show of strength. Neuvillette had more strength in a single hand than Wriothesley had in his entire body, and the way it was barely visible in the shape of the man’s body only made it that much hotter. 

“So hot,” he mumbled, his words already starting to slur, and Neuvillette laughed lowly into his neck as he carried Wriothesley to the pairing of sofas framing the large window with the seascape painting. Wriothesley was lowered with utmost care onto one of them while Neuvillette continued to suck on the curve of his neck and no sooner than his back had touched the pillows could he feel the slimy touch of hydro spilling over his eager hole. It clenched hungrily as Neuvillette’s finger swept over it.

“So good for me,” Neuvillette murmured as he finally breached Wriothesley’s entrance and sank a thin finger to the base in one slow move. Neuvillette couldn’t know, he couldn’t know what that was doing to him. The more Neuvillette praised him the more Wriothesley wanted to please him, the deeper he fell into that pleasant haze. The part of him that rebelled at the thought of letting himself go so completely, the part that told him to be always prepared and to never let his guard down, had been quieted by Neuvillette’s familiar presence. The safety of his touch. 

“You take me so well, Wriothesley. I could not ask for anyone better.” Neuvillette pressed his mouth to the hollow of Wriothesley’s throat, gentle kisses that turned to light sucking as he slowly opened Wriothesley on his fingers. 

“I have thought about you often these last few days. Thought about how you felt around me, how you took all of me into your body with such relish. Will you do so again, my sweet? Will you be good for me?” Neuvillette did not stop talking and with every word Wriothesley was driven closer to insanity. Hearing that warm baritone, that voice that was always so proper and firm, speaking words that were so dirty, effectively scrambled his already addled mind. 

“Please … I’ll be good, Neuvillette please,” he moaned, pulling at the man to get closer, always closer. He wanted Neuvillette inside him, wanted Neuvillette to press him into the sofa, to hold him so tightly he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe unless Neuvillette allowed him. 

“Patience, I will give you what you want,” Neuvillette said, lips pressed to his ear, Wriothesley’s piercing gently flicked beneath a curious tongue. There were three fingers inside him now, thrusting slowly through a slick mess of hydro that was dripping all over him and surely ruining the sofa beneath them, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, with every thrust inside Wriothesley, he summoned more hydro to pool beyond the tips of his fingers, and hummed in delight when he parted his fingers to allow the slick to run between them. Wriothesley clenched around the base of Neuvillette’s fingers, shivers coursing through him with every wet sound and every streak of slick that escaped him. Neuvillette’s cold nose dug into his throat, brushed along his neck and settled behind his ear and Neuvillette moaned, a deep, satisfied sound that engraved itself in Wriothesley’s mind. 

“Your scent is delightful,” he said, a growl more than anything. When Wriothesley managed to pry his eyes open it was only to be blinded by blue light; Neuvillette’s eyes glowed, as did the blue lengths of something that grew from the top of his head that Wriothesley remembered grasping in the throes of pleasure. He grasped for them again as Neuvillette curled his fingers inside him and at the first touch of his hand, Neuvillette growled and claimed his mouth in a hard kiss while grinding his crotch into Wriothesley’s thigh. Surprised at the strong reaction, Wriothesley immediately let go but Neuvillette wouldn’t have it. 

“No, touch them. Hold onto them if you need, they won’t break,” he said and Wriothesley wrapped his fingers around both of them, stroking up and down while Neuvillette sucked on his tongue. For a long while that’s all they did; Neuvillette held Wriothesley open with three fingers buried in him while he rolled his hips against Wriothesley’s thigh, both cocks pushed against him in delightful symmetry.

“I do believe you are ready for me,” Neuvillette said at long last and Wriothesley moaned, the sound tapering into a whimper when Neuvillette pulled away from him, leaving him cold and empty. 

“Do not worry, my sweet, I am still here,” Neuvillette said as he ran his hands down the length of Wriothesley’s body from his chest to his ankles. He lifted Wriothesley’s legs over his shoulders and then he slid his hands under Wriothesley’s hips and easily held him up. Those hands slid from hips to ass and parted his cheeks and Wriothesley keened as it spread his hole apart and a gush of slick hydro escaped him. 

“Beautiful,” Neuvillette murmured and pressed a kiss to the side of Wriothesley’s knee. “So beautiful,” he repeated and Wriothesley felt the brush of a cock against his hole. Then he felt the length of one sliding against the base of his own, and the smooth, ridged head of Neuvillette’s ovipositor pushed inside him. 

The slickness of his hole made the slide easy, but every bump and ridge tugged at his entrance, creating a whole new sensation that Wriothesley was quickly growing addicted to. Neuvillette groaned as he thrust slowly inside Wriothesley, burying himself in slow increments until their hips were flushed and his cock was pressed tightly to Wriothesley’s balls and cock. 

“Fuck that’s good,” Wriothesley groaned, body arching into Neuvillette above him, head pushing into the soft throw pillow at the end of the sofa. “Please Neuvillette, more .”

Neuvillette huffed and pushed against him as if to show that he had nothing more to give and the movement against his prostate sent a bolt of ecstasy through Wriothesley. The ovipositor wasn’t long enough to really push at his stomach the way Neuvillette’s cock had done, but it was wide from tip to base and Wriothesley loved the way it stretched him to his limits. When Neuvillette finally moved he did so slowly, ensuring that Wriothesley felt every inch and every bump and ridge as he pulled out. When only the head was left inside him, Neuvillette groaned and dug his fingers into Wriothesley’s ass and pulled him slowly down the sofa and onto his ovipositor. A low, rumbling growl slipped from Neuvillette, the sound matching the languid way he fucked Wriothesley. Every ridge in Neuvillette’s ovipositor pushed against his prostate and Wriothesley moaned loudly and unabashedly with every pulse of pleasure it gave him. 

“You are doing so well, Wriothesley, so good,” Neuvillette groaned on a second, slow thrust. “So good for me.” 

Wriothesley gasped for air and tried to find his voice, but as soon as he thought he might be able to speak, Neuvillette would move or change the angle of his thrusts and all sense was drained from him once again. He was incapable of thought; all he could comprehend was the unceasing pleasure of Neuvillette fucking him like he had never been fucked before. 

“You are so beautiful like this, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette said, buried to the hilt and rolling his hips, grinding into Wriothesley in a slow and meticulous way. “I wish you could see yourself like this so you would know how beautiful your submission truly is.” As if to prove his point, Neuvillette slid his hands to Wriothesley’s back so as to lift him even further off the sofa and Wriothesley moaned and clenched and clung to the bone-like growths on Neuvillette’s head as he lost all sense of purchase. Only his head, hanging limply from his neck, touched the sofa when Neuvillette drew his hips back and thrust into him just as slowly. It didn’t hinder him in the slightest that he now held all of Wriothesley’s weight in his hands, keeping him suspended and stripped off all control as he fucked him. 

“So good,” Neuvillette growled when Wriothesley clenched around him. “So good for me, Wriothesley, so good,” he continued as his pace sped up and he pulled Wriothesley onto his ovipositor while at the same time thrusting into him. 

“So … good .” He was close to cumming, Wriothesley could tell, and his voice lost all pretence that he was not growling the words of praise he gave so freely. “So good, so good for me, good boy,” he growled and thrust one last time, hard and deep and then he came, thick, copious cum filling Wriothesley to the brim, shooting deep inside him and high up his stomach at the same time. 

For a long time, Wriothesley hung suspended in a single moment of bliss, aware of the world around him while incapable and unwilling to interact with it. He could feel his body being gently put down on the sofa, could feel Neuvillette easing his ovipositor from his pulsating hole and the gush of hydro and cum that spilled out of him. He felt the coolness of Neuvillette’s healing touch over his hips and ass and hole, but also his neck and throat and the middle of his back where Neuvillette had held him. Neuvillette’s soft mouth touched his; it pressed against his jaw and his cheek, brushed over his ear and fused itself to his sweaty temple for a long, long time. Wriothesley felt himself fall, a slow, measured fall right into Neuvillette’s arms and then he woke. 

“Neuvillette,” he whispered and the man pulled away just enough to look into his face. 

“Are you alright, my sweet?” he asked, brushing a hand over Wriothesley’s hair and pushing it away from his forehead. Wriothesley only looked at Neuvillette for a long time, marvelling at how comfortable he felt, how warm and safe. 

“I’m good,” he said eventually and Neuvillette smiled and kissed him again, soft and sweet. 

“You were right, having sex outside of my rut was well worth it. I thoroughly enjoyed being lucid enough to see you fully,” Neuvillette said and a shiver went through Wriothesley’s body as he came fully back to himself and realised exactly what they had just done. He could tell he had orgasmed but he didn’t even remember doing so and the fact that he had let himself go so utterly and wantonly was frightening. Some of it must have showed on his face because Neuvillette sat back, removing himself from Wriothesley’s body completely. The space was nice, but Wriothesley immediately missed his touch. 

“Was it too much for you?” Neuvillette asked and the sight of him sitting with his back straight and his hands folded in his lap while naked and sweaty and speckled with cum almost made him laugh. You could take the Iudex out of his office, but apparently not the other way around. He couldn’t even remember Neuvillette getting naked; he had a clear memory of being slowly undressed, but he was fairly sure Neuvillette still had his shirt and cravat on when his back touched the sofa.

“I registered that you reacted positively to praise, but I might have taken it too far. If the hypocoristic terms were not to your liking then I will not use them again.”

Wriothesley blinked, “huh?”

“I certainly did not intend to demean you by calling you a good boy, or to imply that you are a dog or some other form of pet.” Neuvillette was so earnest it made Wriothesley smile; he hadn’t minded the pet names but he needed to work that out with himself first before he could have that conversation with the older man. 

“Neuvillette, I’m just a simple ex-convict, you’ll only confuse me if you keep using big words like that,” Wriothesley said, trying to deflect from his thoughts of being Neuvillette’s pet . 

“You are not a simple ex-convict, Your Grace , you are also a well-read and highly intelligent man,” Neuvillette said, his forehead creasing with a displeased frown. 

“I still don’t use words like hypocri … hypocorstic I can’t even say it,” Wriothesley laughed and shifted on the sofa, feeling very naked under Neuvillette’s all-knowing gaze, but not in a way that was entirely uncomfortable. 

“ Hypocoristic terms are terms of endearment, or pet names as some call it,” Neuvillette lectured and Wriothesley laughed again, feeling his throat protest, and threw his legs over Neuvillette’s lap. 

“You have still not answered my question. Was it too much? Did I overstep?” Neuvillette rubbed firm hands over Wriothesley’s feet and calves in an exquisite massage that had Wriothesley moaning all over again. 

“Answer is no, clearly. Fuck, I don’t even remember cumming I was so lost in it,” Wriothesley groaned. 

“You orgasmed instantaneously when I lifted you into the air. I thought you might enjoy that and I am glad to know that I was right.”

Wriothesley had suspected as much; he could remember the sheer abundance of sensation that swept over him in that instant, so much so that he had been unable to pinpoint the usually monopolistic feeling of orgasm. 

“How do you even do that?” Wriothesley asked, raking his eyes over Neuvillette’s form. The man had generous muscle definition all over his body, but his limbs were long and slender and all in all he did not look like someone who could bench press Wriothesley with one hand. Which he probably could do, easily. And now Wriothesley was picturing it. 

“Even like this I have retained the strength of my original form,” Neuvillette said, sending Wriothesley’s mind reeling with the possibilities of what this original form could be. 

“Do not ask,” Neuvillette said before Wriothesley could even open his mouth. “I do not want to lie to you.”

He must have known saying that would only stoke the fire of Wriothesley’s curiosity, but he did as requested and tried to cast it from his mind. Tried . 

“I’m pretty sure we ruined your sofa,” he said, changing the subject and looking down at the soaked cushion beneath him. There were several pieces of white fabric scattered on top of the sofa and Wriothesley smothered a laugh as he realised exactly what had happened to the rest of Neuvillette’s clothes. “Also, we should probably get cleaned up.”

Neuvillette didn’t seem too bothered about the fact that his fancy, buttercup-yellow and blue, patterned sofa must be stained beyond repair, or that he must have torn half an outfit to shreds just to get at Wriothesley.

“It was worth it,” was all he said and Wriothesley, despite being spent, felt a tinge of arousal that caused his hole to clench at the warm tone in the man’s voice. 

“But you are right,” he continued and reached out for Wriothesley, slowly slipping his hands under him again when Wriothesley didn’t protest. 

“May I help you to the bathroom?” he asked and Wriothesley nodded his head and raised his hands to grasp Neuvillette’s shoulders. He held his breath as Neuvillette slowly lifted him from the sofa and into his arms, exhaling against Neuvillette’s mouth before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“Thank you,” he said, for so many reasons, reasons that spanned more than half his life. 

Neuvillette carried him back into the hallway and through a door to the left which opened into a small closet with another door leading to the bathroom. The water was already running in the tap when they entered, filling the deep bathtub with hot water that quickly steamed up the room. He wondered how many times Neuvillette had used his affiliation with water to bypass the tap and whether it was even still functional. If his brain had time to chide him for allowing himself to be carried like a child, it was drowned out quickly enough when Neuvillette lowered him into the hot water. Being submerged to the neck and floating weightlessly quickly alleviated the last of his aches, and when Neuvillette joined him Wriothesley had to stop himself from reaching for the man again. 

“I do believe once is enough tonight,” Neuvillette said, a smile curving the corner of his mouth. 

“I hate that you can tell what I’m thinking all the time,” Wriothesley groaned and kicked at Neuvillette with a weak foot. The man only laughed and caught his foot in a strong hand, squeezing his ankle for a brief moment before moving on to kneading the underside of his foot with his fingers. Wriothesley moaned and placed his other foot in Neuvillette’s lap to wait its turn. 

“I cannot read your mind, but rather the way your scent changes. Arousal is easy to interpret.”

“So do you also recognise people by their scent? Like a dog?” Wriothesley asked, simply curious, but when Neuvillette’s face creased in displeasure he felt a hint of glee. 

“I am no dog,” Neuvillette said as he moved on from Wriothesley’s right foot to his left and continued his gentle massage. 

“Just getting even for earlier,” Wriothesley said, relishing in this newfound freedom to annoy the ever-poised Chief Justice. 

“I apologise, again. If the term offends you then I will never use it again,” Neuvillette said, as earnest as ever and Wriothesley wondered if he genuinely didn’t pick up on the teasing banter or simply felt the need to cover his bases. It didn’t escape his notice that Neuvillette was talking as if this would happen again. 

“No, that’s … truthfully, I didn’t mind it. At least in the moment, but I might need some time to think about that,” he said and Neuvillette nodded, gathering both of Wriothesley’s feet into his hands and simply holding them. For a long time they sat quietly, soaking in the hot water and each other’s company, but Wriothesley’s mind never stayed quiet for long.

“What you said earlier,” he began, waiting for Neuvillette to meet his eyes across the length of the bathtub. “Your presence is very much welcomed outside of your bed. I consider you a close friend, Neuvillette, and I treasure our friendship. The sex doesn’t change that.”

Neuvillette stared him down, unnervingly still, for a long, tense moment before he closed his eyes and nodded his head.

“I value your friendship as well, Wriothesley, more than you can know.” 

Wriothesley smiled, not quite sure what to take from the exchange. He had the distinct feeling that some things had been left unsaid, and that Neuvillette was somehow unhappy, but he couldn’t think of a reason why. He really needed to have a good, long think about all this.

“You are welcome to stay the night,” Neuvillette said, interrupting his thoughts, but Wriothesley shook his head. He needed some time to himself after this, not more time to make decisions he was not ready for in Neuvillette’s bed. 

“I have an early appointment in the morning so I should probably head back tonight,” he said, a complete lie and one Neuvillette surely picked up on. But the man accepted the lie for what it was and didn’t bring it up again. 

“Will you let me clean you?” he asked instead and Wriothesley hummed in acquiesce and leaned his head back as the gentle touch of Neuvillette’s hydro crept up his legs and pushed into his hole to clean him both inside and out. 

Almost two hours and a second orgasm on Wriothesley’s part—no matter what Neuvillette had said he hadn’t been able to stop himself and had gotten Wriothesley off with only a swell of hydro pushing against his prostate—later, Wriothesley was pulling his boots on in the hallway, stalling the act as much as he could, while Neuvillette watched, clad in nothing but a thin bathrobe, hands behind his back in a relaxed stance. 

“Thank you for this,” Neuvillette said when Wriothesley was fastening the last buckle on his boots. “You were right, it was both fun and pleasurable and I dare say even more intimate for the fact that I was not mired in rut.”

He knew, somehow, that Neuvillette would not be the one to ask for it no matter how much he had been implying his desire for a repeat, so Wriothesley took the plunge. Stepping in close for a last kiss, he hovered right in front of Neuvillette, their lips barely brushing. 

“I want to do this again,” he whispered and inhaled somewhat shakily when Neuvillette’s hand came to rest on his waist. 

“I would like that as well. If you have the time, how about we meet again in a week? There are no trials scheduled for next Wednesday,” Neuvillette said, having clearly thought about the matter at length. 

Wriothesley suppressed a laugh and lifted one arm to rest on Neuvillette’s shoulder and bury his hand into the long fall of the man’s hair before finally pressing his mouth to Neuvillette. 

“I’d like that,” he whispered and pushed back in for one more kiss. 

“I should go,” he said, forced to pry himself away from Neuvillette’s soft mouth so as to not fall right back into his arms. Neuvillette let him go after a moment, fingers digging briefly into his waist as Wriothesley pulled away. 

“Good night, Wriothesley. I look forward to seeing you again,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley smiled at him and returned the sentiment before pushing the door open and leaving. 

As he jogged down the stairs of the Palais, he couldn’t help but make his steps a little heavier than normal to better feel the effect of having taken Neuvillette’s ovipositor. He liked feeling the ache and the emptiness and how as long as he could feel that he could easily imagine what it had felt in the moment when he was full and being taken apart. If he’d had the time he might have gone back up the stairs again to feel the stretch of his muscles, but he had glanced at a clock before leaving Neuvillette’s apartment and he was dangerously close to missing the last aquabus to Erinnyes. He didn’t even have time to worry about what the lone Gestion working some serious overtime would think about the fact that the administrator of the Fortress of Meropide had come jogging down the stairs from the residential floors of the Palais shortly before midnight. 

And even if he did, he didn’t care what the overworlders thought about him; their opinions were for Neuvillette to deal with.

Chapter Text

Wriothesley didn’t have a meeting the next morning and didn’t do much work as a warden either. Instead, he locked the door to his office and descended the stairs to the Wingalet’s workshop with a bag full of books, a pillow under one arm and an oil lamp hanging from a finger. The ship was an impressive construct, looming tall in the enclosed space, and Wriothesley liked to stand before it when he needed a reminder of how small his existence really was in the context of the history of the world. He was a transitory being, incapable of affecting lasting change, and so all he could do was make things as good as he could in the time that he had. Doubtless, the conditions of this fortress of exile would eventually revert to how they had been; he had long ago accepted the belief that all things in this world was nothing more than a circulatory sequence of events. Perhaps it would be better for the prophecy to play out; at least it would make for an interesting change in the world. But what a needless waste of life. What had they even done to deserve such a sentence? Maybe he should ask Neuvillette the next time he saw him. 

The next time; in a week; he would see Neuvillette again in a week because they had agreed on a schedule of sex. Sex that had him dazed and mindless in the moment, but left him with nothing but questions and unwanted feelings in the aftermath. No, not nothing but, he amended himself. It also left him with the most delicious aches; he could still feel the presence of Neuvillette’s ovipositor inside him, with all its bumps and ridges that had driven him mad with pleasure. He hoped that if Neuvillette had a preference for which cock to fuck him with, that it aligned with his because he needed that thing inside him again.

He was closer to figuring the man out then he had ever been, and all it took was to get him naked. One of his theories had long been that the Iudex was some form of vishap, either born in human form by some divine interference or, more likely in his opinion, he was some sort of shapeshifter. It would explain why the vishaps on Erinnyes were so docile if they answered to someone like Neuvillette. Lizards laid eggs, didn’t they? If Neuvillette was a shapeshifting vishap then it made sense that he would still adhere to his original nature when it came to certain things. And that included the need to procreate; to make little spawns of himself that he apparently only needed a warm hole to rut into to accomplish. Like some kind of incubator. 

He couldn’t help but imagine it though. How would it feel to be pumped full of Neuvillette’s eggs? To take his ovipositor in full rut and to feel it work inside him to deposit his eggs? How big would they be? How many? Would he even be able to hold them in? He supposed he had a year or so to learn, and to figure out if it was something he wanted to try. At the moment the answer was a resounding no. He had enjoyed all of Neuvillette’s peculiarities, but part of him was still working to come to terms with the fact that, despite appearances, his lover was not human. What did that make him? Some kind of lightweight zoophile?

He tried to imagine being fucked by an actual vishap and shuddered when the thought maybe if it was Neuvillette forced its way into his mind. Better to contemplate the fact that he had been ready to give up everything he had worked for to be the Chief Justice’s fucktoy for the rest of his life; that was slightly less disturbing. 

Climbing the ramp to the Wingalet, Wriothesley listened for arguing voices and when he heard them went the opposite way to find a quiet nook to hide himself in. He wasn’t one to hide from anything , and he wouldn’t this time either, but when the thing that needed unravelling was his own mind he preferred not to be seen. Finding what would—if the Wingalet was functional—be a storage room, he closed the door tightly behind him and hung the lamp from a hook in the metal wall, tossing the pillow on the floor to sit on. He pulled a book from his bag, The theory of the multiverse: Fact or Fiction? by Sage Alondra, and opened it at random. He had read it once and had been so caught up in the subject matter and the captivating style of Sage Alondra’s writing that he hadn’t even noticed how the night had slipped away from him as he read it cover to cover, but he wasn’t really interested in reading it at the moment. Or any other book for that matter. Mostly, the feel of a book in his hands helped centre him. It had been a long thirteen years without any books when he was a prisoner so now he took any opportunity he could to read; the first thing he had done on his first visit to the overworld was buy a whole stack of books. 

So , he told himself once he was comfortable, you want to sexually submit to Neuvillette. That was the simplest way of putting it. It was clear to him that Neuvillette had some instincts that compelled him to take control, but did that necessarily mean Wriothesley had to give up all control when they were together? Could it be enough for Neuvillette to be the one doing the penetration bit? That was something he would have to ask Neuvillette, but he somehow doubted it. The man worked mostly on instinct when they fucked and his instinct was telling him to take care of his mate in a way that had stripped Wriothesley of control even of his own body. The crux of it was that he didn’t mind it, in the moment. But knowing that, he still couldn’t silence the voices telling him to be careful; that Neuvillette was already seeing him differently; that no one would take him seriously if word got out. It was not self-consciousness, but rationality that made him consider all this. While the majority of the exiles in Meropide were happy to be there and lived good lives under his leadership, there were always someone who thought they could do a better job and someone who wanted to replace him simply to better benefit themselves. If he gave them any reason to believe he was weak, they would take the opportunity to pounce without much thought. He’d rather avoid the hassle of a potential riot. 

Then there was the matter of Neuvillette’s opinion. He didn’t make a habit of doubting the Chief Justice, so he believed him when he said he found Wriothesley’s willingness to submit impressive. But what did that mean? And would that change? Could someone so biologically wired to dominate their partner ever understand why Wriothesley wanted to submit? Could he ever understand that Wriothesley craved the safety of giving himself over to someone else so completely; that he could discard all the worries of daily life and forget the traumas of his past and just feel ? Could he understand that that sort of thing had limits? That it had a time and place and that crossing the lines of what Wriothesley was comfortable with would have consequences? Could he trust Neuvillette with his limits when the man himself claimed time and again that human sensibilities were difficult to interpret ? 

Short answer, yes. 

Neuvillette had proven himself trustworthy long before they slept together, and since then he had taken the time to listen to Wriothesley when his limits had been tested, even if that was only due to his own insecurities. He had made no excuses or denied accountability and had simply apologised. He did things in the heat of the moment that they hadn’t discussed, but so had Wriothesley and that really wasn’t a valid discussion point whether for or against as it all came down to communication. They would need to talk about it. Maybe he should make a list. A list of dos and don’ts and maybes in sexually subduing the Duke of Meropide.

Bondage - fuck yes. 

Pet names - hmm, maybe. 

Take it outside the bedroom - on pain of death. 

There was bound to be more, but that was a good place to start. 

Wriothesley shifted, holding his breath as the movement sent sparks of sensation from his ass up his spine. Gods, he was still loose. Still open and craving the presence of Neuvillette’s cock to fill him. Or his ovipositor. Preferably his ovipositor. Inhuman as it was, he had never had anything better inside him. The hardness of the ridges that lined it had pushed against every sensitive nerve and pommeled his prostate, creating a constant wash of sensation throughout his body. He was still not over the fact that it had given him so much pleasure that he hadn’t even been aware of his own orgasm. 

With a sigh, Wriothesley pressed a hand over his hardening cock, contemplating it for only a short moment before dragging the heel of his palm over it. His hole clenched and his toes curled in his boots and to hell with it, no one would find him here. 

Popping the button and pulling the zipper, he slipped a hand into his trousers and cupped himself, slowly palming his cock to the memory of Neuvillette fucking him. 

He had gone so slow and from his words after they were done Wriothesley had concluded that it had been for the purpose of savouring him. It was a special kind of vulnerability to be so observed, and while he wanted to drive Neuvillette as mad with lust as Neuvillette did with him, he also couldn’t help but bask in the exhibitionism of it all. For someone so new to sex, Neuvillette sure knew what he was doing. Eyes falling closed, book falling from his hand, Wriothesley spread his legs and rubbed himself more firmly through his underwear. He longed for a more intimate touch and almost laughed out loud when he realised how quickly he had grown used to having regular sex. It wasn’t even regular yet, it had only been twice! But it would be and he had a whole week to look forward to taking Neuvillette’s cock again. He hadn’t thought he would have such a preference for one over the other, but not even once did it cross his mind that he might want to fuck Neuvillette as well. All he could think about was the myriad of ways Neuvillette could fuck him ; with his cock, with his ovipositor, alternating between them with every thrust, both at the same time, with a clutch of his eggs. The possibilities seemed endless and he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he would welcome every single one of them. 

Wriothesley shoved his hand into his underwear and stretched the band enough to fit his left hand inside as well. He couldn’t summon hydro to slick his passage the way Neuvillette could, but it didn’t matter; enough determination could accomplish anything. Summoning a membrane of ice around his fingers, he let it melt against his body heat before pushing two wet fingers inside himself. He was still loose, not really gaping but close, and his fingers slipped through with ease. He spread them apart and pushed a third against his entrance to test the give and then, before he could change his mind, he summoned a ball of ice into his palm and let it fall against his hole. It was almost too cold even for him, but when he pushed it past that ring of muscle and it slipped inside him with a pop, he couldn’t muffle the moan that ripped from him before it echoed between the metal walls surrounding him. Fuck it felt good. 

He clenched around it and nudged it with his fingers to move it around, all the while biting his lips to stifle his moans. Encouraged by the success of his little experiment, he summoned another ball of ice and pushed it inside himself with more force and yelped when it fell against the other with an audible clink and a brutally cold slide over his prostate. He couldn’t use his vision to move them when they had already left the control of his hands, but as they slowly melted inside his heated hole he got his fingers around them and nudged them back and forth. Slicked by the melted water they slipped over his prostate and against each other, driving him closer and closer to orgasm by the second. In his mind, ice turned to water, lifeless spheres turned to fertile eggs and he came, clamping down on the eggs inside him and calling out Neuvillette’s name. 

When he resurfaced, the ice had melted completely and was drooling from his hole and his underwear was stiff with dried cum. The sound of the arguing voices of Jurieu and Lourvine came and went as the researchers walked past his hiding spot. And flashes of fantasies flew past Wriothesley’s eyes, fantasies of eggs and rut and children that he tried his best to ignore. Don’t make this into something it’s not. 

If Neuvillette was willing to share his next rut with Wriothesley then he wanted his eggs, for sure. But taking his eggs in a sexual act was all he wanted and if Neuvillette wanted to fertilise them as well then he would have to find someone else. Children were a responsibility Wriothesley would never be equipped for. And if he were, how would they even make that work? The prison administrator and the Chief Justice and a clutch of nonhuman spawns, a happy little family? Would they even be his, biologically? Or would his body simply be a storage space for when they were ready to hatch? And how would that even work? He was pretty sure carrying a clutch of eggs up his ass for a length of time would be an impediment to certain vital bodily functions. Maybe Neuvillette simply needed the aid of a tight passage to properly fertilise them and once that was done Wriothesley could safely deposit them in a nest of sorts and lie on them until they hatched. Not that he would, this was only hypothetical. 

Extracting his hands from his trousers and drying them on his shirt under the waistcoat, Wriothesley huffed a breath that was almost a laugh and let his head fall back against the wall. What was he even contemplating? He hadn’t set out to be a vishaps broodmare and he wouldn’t be either; what he and Neuvillette was doing was just sex, experimental and adventurous sex, but still just sex. Good sex. Very good sex. With a man strong enough to toss him around however he wanted, but gentle enough to make sure Wriothesley was enjoying it. As much as his sexual submission sent him down loathsome spirals of doubt in the aftermath, he couldn’t deny that it was what he wanted. And not just with Neuvillette, it just so happened that Neuvillette was the first person he had trusted since he ran away from home. It was the safety that he craved; the security of having someone he knew would catch him if he were to fall, who would hold him and give him pleasure and with whom he could let go of every ingrown instinct of distrust and self-preservation. He had found that with Neuvillette and it was the scariest thing he had ever done. 

Drawing a new book from his bag, this one with purpose, Wriothesley pushed himself into a better sitting position but didn’t bother fastening his trousers before opening it to the index pages in the back of the book. It was a book on creatures written by an Amurta graduate from Sumeru that had somehow found its way into his shelves. He didn’t remember buying it, but that didn’t mean much, he had a lot of books he didn’t remember buying and that he had never even read. He might have bought this one on a day he really wanted a pet, possibly hoping he would find some small creature that thrived in darkness and enclosed spaces. 

Scanning the last index page until he came to Vishap, p.264, see also Bathysmal Vishap, p.23 and Primordial Bathysmal Vishap, p.202, he hummed and turned to page two-hundred-and-sixty-four, thinking it best to start simple. 

Paragraph titles like Origin , Physical description and Literary references first caught his eye; the book really didn’t go into much detail. The entry on Vishaps was short—just a little over a page—but that was usually the case with encyclopaedias; he would have to look into finding some more in-depth research material. With a deep breath he went for the physical description paragraph first; he had seen the tame vishaps on Erinnyes up close several times, but it wouldn't hurt to get a recap from someone who knew what they were talking about. 

Vishaps are tetrapods with little discernible difference in musculature, strength or usage between their front and hind legs. While they can move easily on two legs, they seem to prefer the agility of four and have been witnessed to…

Scanning the page for words of interest, Wriothesley caught on words like rhinophore and scute , stopping to read only when there was something he didn’t understand.

…while all vishaps have horns, it would be more accurate to call them rhinophores when speaking of hydro-attuned vishaps as they have been observed to rely on their rhinophores to find food as well as to recognise their herd while in water. Vishaps who have lost or suffered damage to their rhinophores have difficulty doing this and so eventually become stranded. Fortunately vishaps are a highly adaptive species and stranded hydro-attuned vishaps will eventually adapt to their new environment. Children of such vishaps however, have been observed to return to their parents' original environment in time, leading researchers to believe that a latent bond to their original element is transferred from parent to child.

There was a drawing next to that bit of text, a faint sketch of a vishap-head with a prominent, blue, horn-like appendage that was very familiar. 

Most vishaps have an outer layer of microscopic scales that give them a smooth, durable hide, the exception being Geovishaps who protect their vulnerable underbelly with thick scutes similar to the Tent Tortoise (see p.252).

Scales, check; Neuvillette had a smattering of smooth scales around his crotch. He remembered how pale skin faded into blue scale, so microscopic Wriothesley could barely feel the difference other than an increased smoothness to the touch. 

Then the shiny blue growths on Neuvillette’s head must be horns, or rather rhinophores as the man was certainly hydro-attuned. From what he could understand, they acted like feelers. No wonder Neuvillette had reacted the way he did when Wriothesley grabbed them; they must be highly sensitive. There was no reference to the mating cycles of vishaps or their reproductive anatomy, but then again, this was an encyclopaedia; those sorts of books tended to be family-friendly. 

He skimmed the lore section close enough to learn that the vishaps were closely linked to the Seven Sovereigns of the world before their destruction, which is why vishaps are generally attuned to only one of the seven elements; and read the paragraph about literary references just enough to learn that a popular genre of light books in Inazuma revolved around “vishap-men” … a potential cause of this particular trend could be the prophecy that says the…

“Ugh, always the prophecies,” Wriothesley scoffed and closed the book with a sigh; he could read all he wanted about vishaps in the wild, it wouldn't help him when it came to Neuvillette. He was fairly certain Neuvillette was some form of ancient vishap at this point, but that didn’t change the fact that he was also human, and not just physically. Neuvillette was an observant and highly empathic man , capable of controlling his own animalistic instincts; it didn’t matter that his origin was different from other humans around him; Wriothesley knew animals, and he knew monsters, and he knew himself, and Neuvillette was more deserving of the title human than any of them.

So did it bother him that his lover was more than human? No.

Did it excite him? He couldn’t deny it anymore, yes. 

He wanted Neuvillette because of who he was and because of what he was, whatever that might make him.

When he made his way up the stairs to his office—washed and changed for the second time that day—he was met with Sigewinne blocking his way, hands on her hips and a thunderous look on her face. 

“Where have you been?!” She pointed a finger in his face, clearly enjoying the height advantage as Wriothesley had stopped several steps down from her. “Your office was locked and empty but no one had seen you leave, and Jurieu and Lourvine swore they hadn’t seen you either so I know you didn’t go to the basement!”

Wriothesley held up two placating hands and raised an eyebrow.

“There’s no need to worry about me, I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself,” he said and Sigewinne huffed, her tiny hands back on her hips.

“I’m not worried, I’m angry. I have been looking all over for you, Your Grace! You have a visitor!” Sigewinne finally stepped aside and let Wriothesley pass and he did so with an apologetic pat to her head that she scoffed at but he knew she secretly enjoyed.

“I told her not to make such a fuss, but she insisted. I see now she knows you better than I do, it’s been hours.” Clorinde’s amused voice met him as he rounded the bend in the staircase. She was sitting on top of his desk, a book in one hand, the other pinching the report still on his typewriter between two fingers as she read.

“He didn’t even last the night? That’s gotta be some sort of record,” she remarked and Wriothesley shrugged. He couldn’t be blamed if criminals had a temper; if it just so happened that he was adept at triggering those tempers then that was just another skill he possessed as warden of the prison. As far as he was concerned, his hands were clean.

“Miss Clorinde has a trial to attend in less than an hour, it’s rude to keep visitors waiting,” Sigewinne said, pointedly.

“Is she really a visitor when I didn’t know she was coming?” Wriothesley mused, taking his bag to the bookshelves behind his desk and carefully returning the books to their slots.

“If you start calling me an intruder then this friendship is over,” Clorinde said and nudged his side with her foot.  

“Friendship? All we do is drink tea and share salacious gossip,” Wriothesley said once all the books were back in place and he had risen to his feet, his mouth curled in an amused smile.

“Isn’t that what a friendship is?” Clorinde remarked and pushed a cup of tea his way. He took it gratefully, sipping from it heartily even though it was barely lukewarm. He hadn’t eaten anything in hours and his stomach was grumbling about it, but the tea quieted it at least for the moment. 

“Well I have to get back to work, some of us don’t have the time to disappear for half a day,” Sigewinne said, in a huff. Wriothesley gave her a wry smile, feeling a bit guilty for just disappearing like he had. He could tell that the annoyance in Sigewinne’s voice was actually thinly veiled concern; he must have scared her. 

“I’m sorry, Head Nurse, for wasting your time with my unprofessional whims, it will not happen again” Wriothesley said, allowing her the pretence. Sigewinne scoffed and so did Clorinde, but Wriothesley ignored her . 

“Mhm, until the next time,” Sigewinne said and then, having had the last word, she left. 

“Unprofessional whims indeed,” said Clorinde once the Melusine nurse was gone. “You have a sex glow.”

Wriothesley gave her a narrow-eyed look, but he didn’t deny it. He knew from experience that Clorinde wouldn’t believe him; the woman never made claims unless she was sure of them. 

“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. There’s only two groups of people in this fortress you could be having sex with and I don’t even know which one would be worse.” 

Wriothesley laughed but it was without humour. 

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he said and fell into his chair without thinking. A stinging pain shot through his nervous system and he couldn’t stifle a wince before it showed on his face. Clorinde snorted a quiet laugh. 

“I have higher standards now, comes with the title,” he joked and Clorinde laughed again; he might have felt accomplished if she hadn’t been laughing at him. 

“Mhm, higher standards like the Chief Justice perhaps?” she remarked, her mouth curled in a wry smile. “At least, that’s what the rumour mill is saying today.”

Ah, so that’s what brought her here. 

“And what exactly is it saying?” he asked lightly, shoving down that initial burst of panic he felt at being found out. 

“That a handsome young man dressed all in black was seen leaving the residential floors of the Palais at around midnight. The gestion who claims to have seen you didn’t recognise you so that’s all the description he could give, but I figured it might have been you. And I don’t think you were there to see Lady Furina.”

At least that meant no one knew who he was yet, but he expected that would change the next time he had to see Neuvillette for work-related reasons. 

“What are you doing, Wriothesley?” Clorinde asked, the tone of her voice a mix of scolding and chiding. He would have had an answer ready for her if he only knew what it was he was doing. Truth was, the scolding was probably deserved. Some people you just didn’t get involved with; colleagues for example, clients, fellow high-ranking officials, and Neuvillette were all of those things at the same time. But Wriothesley was beginning to think he might also be the only chance at an intimate relationship he would ever have. 

“Do you really think that’s fair? How’s the stalking working out for you?” he returned, a bite in his words that was maybe not deserved. Clorinde sighed and Wriothesley looked away from her, unwilling to acknowledge her disappointment in him. Clorinde rarely got angry, but her disappointment stung like a jellyfish’s venom. 

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he said, looking up at Clorinde still sitting at his desk. After a moment she smiled and nudged the outside of his thigh with her foot and he nudged her back. They didn’t have a particularly physical friendship—neither of them were very tactile people to begin with—but she liked kicking him and he didn’t really mind it. 

“It’s casual, just sex,” he said and Clorinde hummed. 

“Does Monsieur Neuvillette know that?” she asked and Wriothesley felt something churn in his gut, but he didn’t let it sow doubt in his next words. 

“Of course he does.”

Chapter Text

The first:

“It was remiss of me to not lay down a more concise plan for the evening, but I am glad to see you have taken initiative. Again,” Neuvillette remarked—sounding almost embarrassed—as Wriothesley walked through his front door six days later, a bag of hot food in each hand. 

“I got seafood again, hope you like mussels.” Wriothesley smiled at Neuvillette as he handed him the bags of food before toeing his shoes off. He had foregone his usual outfit that night, dressing instead in an all-black ensemble of trousers, shirt and waistcoat and a nice pair of loafers. They were not date clothes, he had simply concluded that if any overachieving new hires were to see him again this night then it would be best to avoid any definable traits. Like thigh-high boots and a fur-collared mantle. 

“As long as it comes from the sea you can be sure I’ll eat it,” Neuvillette said, lingering on the border between marbled entryway and oak-floored hallway. He was dressed simply in high-waisted trousers and a loose white shirt that was buttoned so low it couldn’t be anything but a tease, and his feet were bare. He looked as far from the Chief Justice as Wriothesley had ever seen him outside of sex. 

“Good to know,” Wriothesley said out loud while in his mind he couldn’t help but think that that was very vishap of him. He stepped up to Neuvillette and tilted his head to kiss him when he stopped, looked down at their feet and back up at the other man’s face. 

“You’re taller,” he said, in disbelief. 

“Than you? Yes, I am,” Neuvillette responded, taking the kiss Wriothesley had denied him. The difference in height was small, not really noticeable but for the fact that Wriothesley had to tilt his chin up to align their mouths, and he truly had never noticed it before. He supposed he wouldn’t have noticed as the last times they had been this close in an upright position he had either been sitting on furniture or Neuvillette had been carrying him around. God, he really was just a useless bottom wasn’t he. 

“Your boots even it out, even with my heels,” Neuvillette said between kisses that were so deep and intense Wriothesley was sure the only thing that kept Neuvillette from whisking him away to his bedroom prematurely were the bags of dinner he held in both hands. 

Wriothesley put his hands on Neuvillette’s waist, feeling the slender shape of it as he dove into each kiss with gusto; it had been a long week with lots of thinking on Wriothesley’s part and his mind was utterly exhausted. He didn’t want to think about work; he didn’t want to think about Sigewinne’s incessant niggling—one of these days she was going to find out the truth; and he didn’t want to think about Clorinde and her pointed questions. All he wanted was to ride himself silly on both of Neuvillette’s cocks and have his mind and guts thoroughly rearranged. 

Pushing at Neuvillette’s waist, Wriothesley walked them slowly down the hallway to where it opened up into a formal sitting room where he guided Neuvillette towards the yellow and blue sofa they had fucked on before. He couldn’t tell if Neuvillette had reupholstered it or simply cleaned it, but it looked as good as new when he pushed Neuvillette onto it and Wriothesley bit his lower lip to hide the pout that wanted to shape it.

Neuvillette was still holding their dinner so Wriothesley took the bags from him again and deposited them carefully on the sofa table behind him—the food wasn’t cheap, he didn’t want to spill it—before turning back to the unfairly attractive man before him. Licking his lips, he nudged a knee between Neuvillette’s thighs and leant over him for a kiss that was soft on his part but stiff on Neuvillette’s part and Wriothesley laughed quietly against the soft curve of Neuvillette’s mouth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna try and fuck you,” he said and raised his other leg onto the sofa to kneel over Neuvillette. It was fascinating how quickly Neuvillette grew uncomfortable when not in control and he wanted to explore why that was. Their next kiss was better; Neuvillette softened into it and hummed when Wriothesley licked over the seam of his lips and opened his mouth, inviting Neuvillette’s tongue to tangle with his own.

“I have a challenge for you, my dear Iudex,” Wriothesley murmured between kisses, licking into Neuvillette’s mouth once before settling into his lap, one knee pressed against the growing tent in Neuvillette’s trousers. He had come prepared this time, having thought out exactly what he wanted to get out of the evening and how he wanted to get it; now he only hoped Neuvillette would be amenable—those vishap instincts of his were still wildcards. 

“And what challenge is that, Your Grace?” Neuvillette said, sliding his hands over Writohesley’s thighs to his ass which he gripped and pulled Wriothesley even closer, grinding his cock against Wriothesley’s knee. 

“Let me be in charge; that means no inhuman strength, no tossing me around just because you can, you know I get off on that. You said you enjoyed the last time because you could keep a clear head throughout, well I want that to, so there’s your challenge for the evening,” he hesitated as he heard already in his head how dumb his next words sounded, but he powered through. “No driving me mad with pleasure.” Why didn’t he want that again?

Neuvillette raised an eyebrow and in its curve Wriothesley could see reflected his own question, but he didn’t let it deter him; he had his reasons for asking for this.

“What exactly do you want me to do then?” Neuvillette asked, a slight growl hidden under his words, but Wriothesley didn’t think it was the same growl that laced his voice when he was fucking Wriothesley. Seemed he was already pushing the limits of Neuvillette’s animal instinct. 

“I want you to let me take your cocks at my own pace, however I want them, and I want them like this.” Wriothesley raised himself up enough to move the knee he had pushed between Neuvillette’s thighs so he sat properly astride him. “I want to ride you. Can you let me do that without controlling my pace?”

Had he been with anyone else, he wouldn't have thought to ask, but Neuvillette was still unfamiliar with the concept of having sex just for the sake of sex and he needed to know that they could do this without the man’s mating instincts dictating all of it. An important aspect of his sexual submission—he had come to realise—was the knowledge that it was wanted but not expected.

“Can I still touch you?” Neuvillette asked and Wriothesley immediately relaxed when he recognised the tone. This was the Chief Justice familiarising himself with the terms of a case, or in this case a sexual agreement; Neuvillette was taking him seriously.

“Yes, as much as you want as long as it’s not intended to control my movement,” Wriothesley said, running his hands up Neuvillette’s chest, exploring the feel of the soft cotton of the man’s shirt against his skin. It would stay on this time; maybe he’d pop another button or two. His hands continued their exploration over Neuvillette’s clavicle, up his neck and into his soft and extremely lengthy hair. It hung loose over his shoulders, falling over Wriothesley’s fingers like a soft curtain. Neuvillette hummed and his rhinophores glowed faintly. Wriothesley touched them with the pads of his fingers, sliding back and forth along the hard base of the appendages before he moved them slowly down the lengths, humming quietly as they seemed to soften closer to the end, the feel of them more like a spongy underwater plant. He pinched them softly and Neuvillette bucked under him, pushing his crotch into Wriothesley in search of friction; his hands, miraculously, stayed gentle on the curve of Wriothesley’s ass, not tugging him closer at all.

“Good boy,” Wriothesley hummed, only a tease, and laughed when Neuvillette growled again, displeased. 

“What, no hypocoristic terms for the Chief Justice?” Wriothesley laughed and slid his fingers along the rhinophores from tip to stem before digging his fingers into Neuvillette’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“Not that one,” Neuvillette said and as if to erase it ever having been said, did the opposite of what Wriothesley had asked of him and took him firmly by the nape and kissed him hard while he held Wriothesley still and grinded against him. It lasted only for seconds, but Wriothesley was dazed and breathless by the end of it, while Neuvillette returned to gently holding Wriothesley by his hips and sitting docile beneath him. 

“Got it,” Wriothesley said, his voice hoarse, and blinked several times before taking a deep breath. 

“We should eat,” he said, just to say something.

“The food can be reheated and will not go to waste, this moment however, will never come again,” Neuvillette said and for a brief moment Wriotheshley wondered if he meant that this relinquishing of control would never happen again. But as usual, Neuvillette didn’t disappoint.

“I am yours, Wriothesley,” he said then, gently palming the flesh of Wriothesley’s thighs. “Do with me as you wish.”

And he did. 

Once he was naked, he let Neuvillette open him up, asking for nothing more than the mechanical motions of stretching him wide enough to take Neuvillette at his thickest and Neuvillette obeyed. When he lowered himself onto Neuvillette’s wide, delightfully textured ovipositor, Neuvillette helped him keep his balance and watched with hooded eyes as Wriothesley fucked himself on his ovipositor and pushed their cocks together in the cavern of his cupped palms. When Wriothesley moved onto his cock he helped guide him then pushed his ovipositor between Wriothesley’s cheeks and held it there as Wriothesley rode him hard, chasing his orgasm that he could feel building slowly to a peak. 

They came together like that; mouths fused in a hot kiss as Wriothesley spilled onto their chests and clenched around Neuvillette’s cock as it shot him full of cum and pushed his own hand underneath Neuvillette’s behind him to feel the rings of muscles lining his ovipositor work as it shot streak after streak of hot cum up his back. It was perhaps the dirtiest sex Wriothesley had ever had.

He stayed in Neuvillette’s lap until they had cooled down, afraid that if he moved even an inch he would spill a bucket load of cum onto the sofa. Neuvillette ran his hands gently over Wriothesley’s skin, a low rumble starting up in his chest the longer they remained in each other’s embrace and Wriothesley pressed even closer to feel the vibration of the purr in his own chest. 

“Was that what you wanted?” Neuvillette asked at long last, nuzzling his nose behind Wriothesley’s ear and inhaling his scent.

“Yes it was,” Writohesley hummed, his forehead resting on Neuvillette’s shoulder and his arms dangling over the back of the sofa and his body completely relaxed in that post-orgasm haze. 

“Was it alright with you?” he asked quietly, muffled in Neuvillette’s shirt, a tiny part of him worried it hadn’t been but Neuvillette only hummed and hugged him a little closer.

“It was delightful, Wriothesley. To watch you take your own pleasure like that was a highly arousing experience. And I think I know why this was so important to you.” Neuvillette shifted his hands underneath Wriothesley and, using that inhuman strength of his for the first time that night, shifted Wriothesley off his cock and onto the sofa beside him, cradling him in his lap in a way that was surprisingly comfortable. Wriothesley rested his head on Neuvillette’s shoulder and let himself be held. 

“Your submission is a marvellous thing and is something I want very much, but I will never expect it from you without reason,” Neuvillette said and Wriothesley laughed breathily; Neuvillette couldn’t have come to a more perfect conclusion. 

“I understand that while it is something you want, it might not be something you want all the time, nor is it necessary for us to enjoy intimacy together, as this night has proven.”

Wriothesley inhaled deeply through his nose and pressed a kiss to Neuvillette’s neck; he was about to contradict himself now.

“I think … you can expect it,” he began, slipping his arms around Neuvillette’s waist and curling tighter to his side. “Maybe … let’s say it’s our default, but if I want something different, or if you want something different, then we’ll communicate that before we start something.”

Neuvillette nuzzled his nose into Wriothesley’s hair, audibly smelling him again, and rubbed his right palm firmly over the muscles in Wriothesley’s thigh, alleviating the strain put on them with a cool, hydro-attuned touch.

“And if it happens that what we want is different? If one time you want it like this, while I want to have you?” Neuvillette said have as if he meant own and it sent shivers through Wriothesley so deep his core shook with it. 

“Then we talk about it and we find out who wants something more, I guess,” he said, his voice a waspy rasp and he knew he wanted Neuvillette to have him before the night was done. They should probably eat something before that though.

He turned his head, cheek resting on Neuvillette’s shoulder, and looked mournfully at what was surely now their cold dinners in the brown paper bags on the table. 

“Times like these I really wish I had a pyro vision instead,” he said, smiling dopily when Neuvillette laughed.

“If that were the case then we would not be so compatible,” remarked Neuvillette.

“What, cold and unapproachable?” Wriothesley quipped and Neuvillette laughed again and pressed a kiss to Wriothesley’s forehead.

“Indeed.”

The second:

Ruining his knees on hard, tiled floors sucking Neuvillette’s cock while the man cooked them dinner was not a scenario Wriothesley had expected to find himself in that morning. He had been tense and exhausted when he left his office and had been looking forward to a hard and fast fuck on a soft surface, but that plan had been left at the threshold to Neuvillette’s apartment. It had been a truly heinous week in the prison with more than a dozen fights between inmates over the course of seven days leading to stiff shoulders and high tensions throughout the fortress. Wriothesley had been driven to the brink of exhaustion as he was kept up night after night working to dissipate riots before they could start. From what he could gather, it had all started when news of the death of their newest life-time prisoner had gotten around, and he was always on edge because of it, expecting the man to be able to topple his empire even from six feet under. It seemed the guy had gotten under his skin after all. 

When Neuvillette had greeted him at his door with a gentle smile and the scent of a home cooked meal on his clothes, Wriothesley had fallen immediately under. Crossing that threshold meant crossing into safety and just being in Neuvillette’s presence, in the security of his domain, had wiped every worry from Wriothesley’s mind and left only a yearning behind.

He had been unable to speak and could only stretch a hand out to touch Neuvillette, forming silent words with his mouth when the man pulled him close and asked him what was wrong. Somehow they had managed to communicate and it had been Wriothesley who had squirmed himself into Neuvillette’s arms and who had begged with everything but words for the man to take control of him so he wouldn't have to anymore. Neuvillette had carried him to the kitchen and placed him on the counter so he could stir the soup on the stove while keeping at least a hand on Wriothesley at all times, but the yearning didn’t stop; instead it rose further up his chest by the second and he clawed at his throat to make it stop but it didn’t work. 

It had been Neuvillette who suggested it, wordlessly pressing his fingers to Wriothesley’s restlessly moving lips and dipping them shallowly into his mouth. The yearning stopped somewhere on top of his lungs as Wriothesley sucked on Neuvillette’s fingers, but like a beast that had gotten a taste of something good, the yearning crept on until Wriothesley had slipped to his knees and, with Neuvillette’s help, had gotten the man’s cock from his trousers and into his mouth. He had stilled then; the tip of Neuvillette’s cock brushing his throat and the length of him lying heavy and present on his tongue erasing the remains of restless energy in his body. His back was sweating in the heat from the oven and he could barely breathe as he kept the thick weight of Neuvillette’s cock deep in his mouth, but just the thought of pulling away now made every cell in his body protest. 

Wriothesley didn’t know how much time had passed—had not the presence of mind to even consider the passage of time—but Neuvillette didn’t rush him and only kept a steadying hand in Wriothesley’s hair, stroking him from time to time behind his ears and the sides of his face until Wriothesley let him go of his own accord, slumping at Neuvillette’s feet to hide his burning face. 

When they finally ate, the soup was a little bland from having boiled thick and being added too much water, and the garlic bread was burned on the bottom, but it was still the best meal Wriothesley had ever had. In the end they didn’t really have sex—even having had his mouth around Neuvillette’s cock for the better part of an hour he hadn’t made the man cum, nor even coaxed his ovipositor from its sheath—and when Wriothesley woke in Neuvillette’s bed the next morning he was more than a little embarrassed. Embarrassed that he had let himself fall so completely; embarrassed that it had happened so soon ; and not really sure he knew what had happened at all. Something had happened not just in his body, but in his mind; something significant that he didn’t have the words to explain. Neuvillette, however, didn’t accept a single apology and Wriothesley left his apartment before dawn, better rested and more at peace than he had been when he entered it. 

The interim:

Surprisingly, they didn’t last very long before their new private relationship bled into their pre-existing work relationship; un surprisingly, it was all Wriothesley’s fault. They were in his office for a change as Neuvillette had presided over a trial prior to their meeting so his commute was shorter; something which barely made up for the tension his presence spread throughout the fortress. Maybe it would have been better for Wriothesley to have gone with Neuvillette back to the Palais Mermonia, but now they were here and Wriothesley could not deny that he would shoulder any consequences Neuvillette’s presence in the fortress might bring just to have this image of the man of his, very literal, dreams in his office.

As Neuvillette went over the budget reports from the Palais for repairs on a batch of gardemeks, Wriothesley watched him over the breadth of his desk with a look that he really hoped came across as coy and flirty, but as he was not in any way a seduction aficionado he wouldn’t be surprised if he merely looked constipated. On their last scheduled meeting three weeks ago, he had gotten his ass fucked thoroughly and relentlessly on a desk much like this one, by the very same man now sitting across from him. Not even the ancient, now deceased, archon of Liyue could have the self-discipline to not think about it and draw those same comparisons.

“You are not listening,” Neuvillette said, not looking at Wriothesley. 

“I am listening, I’m just not paying attention to what I’m listening to,” Wriothesley quipped, smiling in the face of Neuvillette’s disapproval. 

“Your arousal is clear as day to me, and it is highly inappropriate,” Neuvillette said, a frown creasing his forehead, and Wriothesley would have taken him seriously if not for the hint of a growl coating the end of his sentence. Neuvillette only growled when Wriothesley was affecting him. 

“Well, if you did something about it then I’d be better equipped to pay attention to budget reports later.” Wriothesley smiled and sank further into his chair. He wasn’t expecting Neuvillette to give him what he wanted—expected rather that the man would chide him and continue his read-through of the budget report—but Neuvillette surprised him, as he did so often these days. He rose gracefully from his chair and dropped the file he had been reading from to the desktop; it fell with a thump that Wriothesley felt in his chest like a spare heartbeat. 

“This will not happen again,” Neuvillette warned as he came around to Wriothesley’s side of the desk and took hold of the back of his chair, swinging it around to face him. 

“Of course not,” Wriothesley replied, his voice halfway stuck in his throat as Neuvillette unexpectedly dropped to his knees in front of him. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered as Nevillette’s fingers went to the hem of his trousers, popping the buttons and pulling the flaps aside.

“I believe you call it a blowjob,” Neuvillette hummed and looked up at Wriothesley with the barest hint of a smile and Wriothesley really regretted wearing the tight underwear that day because now he would have to take off his clothes before he could feel Neuvillette’s mouth around him. Had he known this would be the outcome of their meeting he wouldn't have worn underwear at all.

Neuvillette slid his nose along the bulge in Wriothesley’s underwear, sniffing him like he usually did around his neck and behind his ears, and Wriothesley was sure he smelled of nothing but musk and day-old sweat at this point but Neuvillette didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. 

“You like smelling me,” remarked Wriothesley, his fingers curling over the armrests of his chair. There was something about having Neuvillette kneel for him while knowing that his submission was nothing but a farce that got Wriothesley’s blood pumping. 

“I told you before; your scent is what attracts me, even more than your body or your lovely face,” Neuvillette said, matter-of-fact as he pulled Wriothesley’s boots off one by one.

“You think my face is lovely?” Wriothesley teased, digging his toes into the floor to lift himself off his chair so Neuvillette could pull his trousers and underwear down.

“I do,” Neuvillette replied, as serious as he ever was in the face of Wriothesley’s teasing, and Wriothesley felt a flush come over him, effectively silenced by the other man’s genuine compliment. He wanted to say that Neuvillette was the one with the lovely face between them; wanted to tell the man how striking he was; how his eyes were the most marvellous eyes Wriothesley had ever seen, and that his hair was a beautiful, luscious thing and how much he enjoyed feeling it against his own naked skin, and how the parts of Neuvillette that made him beyond human were the most beautiful parts about him, but the words wouldn't come. They sounded too much like other words and he didn’t want to touch on that so soon, if ever. 

Once Wriothesley was naked from the waist down, Neuvillette effortlessly threw his legs over his shoulders to carry his weight and went straight to work thrusting a hydro-coated finger into Wriothesley’s hole at the same time as he sucked his cock into his mouth. He was clumsy about it; slowly familiarising himself with Wriothesley’s cock in a way he had yet to do despite the number of times they had sex already. For a second Wriothesley felt a bit miffed at the thought before he was reminded of the fact that Neuvillette made him cum harder than anyone ever had before even if he rarely touched his cock. He didn’t even know if that was a sign of Neuvillette’s innate prowess, or if he was just that much of a bottom all along and never knew. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” Neuvillette’s voice, uncharacteristically annoyed, pulled Wriothesley from his thoughts; he hadn’t realised he had slipped so far into his own mind as to lose focus of the man currently sucking his cock, hadn’t realised that was even possible. 

“No, you’re not, nothing wrong,” he fumbled to assure Neuvillette, cupping the man’s cheek in his palm and stroking a finger over his bottom lip. It dipped inside Neuvillette’s mouth and Wriothesley gasped quietly when the man sucked it deeper, teeth lightly grazing his skin as a hot tongue pushed against the pad of his finger. His vision hazed at the edges as the vision of the man in front of him sharpened his focus into something single-minded and Wriothesley didn’t even notice when a whine slipped from his lips. But Neuvillette did and before Wriothesley knew what was happening, Neuvillette was fucking him open on two fingers while sucking his cock down to the hilt and he was sitting more in Neuvillette’s hands than in the seat of his chair and he felt weightless, like a cloud drifting in the grip of Neuvillette’s currents. 

“ Fuuuuuuck,” he hissed, his breath shaky as the sudden rush of pleasure made his whole body tremble. He wasn’t going to last; Neuvillette would make him cum in his own office in less than a minute and there was nothing Wriothesley could do to stop it. Not that he wanted to. Neuvillette’s mouth was hot and wet and divine and Wriothesley wanted to cum down his throat so bad. 

“Babe … baby … baby I’m gonna come,” he gasped and Neuvillette growled and the sound sent vibrations up and down Wriothesley’s cock and he barely managed to push weakly at Neuvillette’s cheek to warn him before he was cumming with a choked scream. Neuvillette accepted it all with a pleased hum, swallowing around him until Wriothesley was spent and then he let go, gently placing Wriothesley back onto his chair.  Neuvillette remained kneeling between Wriothesley’s legs, stroking his cool hands over Wriothesley’s hips and to the small of his back. His lips were a startling red and his hair was mussed and Wriothesley thought he had never seen him look more beautiful. He reached down to tuck a strand of escaped hair behind a pointy ear and Neuvillette hummed and tilted his cheek into his palm. 

A ball of ice formed in Wriothesley’s chest, restricting his breath and sending chills down his spine and he curled his fingers into his palm and drew his hand back, fighting against the pull that wanted to draw him back to Neuvillette. The Chief Justice watched him struggle, something hard coming over his eyes that Wriothesley didn’t want to examine. This was just sex, they were both conscious of that.

“I dare say that was a better blowjob than the last one I gave you,” Wriothesley said—a little choked, a little breathless—when he at long last found his voice again. His voice spurred Neuvillette into action and Wriothesley found himself being dressed again as meticulously and efficiently as he had been un dressed. Neuvillette didn’t say anything until the last buckle of Wriothesley’s boot was tightened and he had risen to his feet and carefully smoothed down his own appearance. His silence was like a punch to the solar plexus for Wriothesley who felt deeply that he had made some grave misstep.

“I would not classify this and what we did two days ago as being the same, nor would I compare them. My actions now were intended to help you reach orgasm; that was not the intent for either of us when I last gave you my cock.” Neuvillette’s voice was soft, that hard look in his eyes gone as he returned to Wriothesley’s side and cupped a hand under his jaw to tilt his head up so their eyes could meet.

“I do not want you to feel negatively towards what happened on that night; I was and I still am happy to help. While I realise it does not fit perfectly into the framework you have created for these evenings we spend together, I would not be opposed to making room for it if you should ever need it again.”

Neuvillette fell silent, but he didn’t move his hand from Wriothesley’s chin so Wriothesley didn’t look away. He had caught the deliberate use of subject pronouns in Neuvillette’s words; while he had never said it in so many words in conversation with Neuvillette, he had been the one to decide that their weekly meetings was a physical thing and nothing more and now Neuvillette was telling him that while he had gone along with his wishes, he might not agree with them. What was he even supposed to say to that?

“I enjoy your submission not simply because I delight in how you give your body to me, in how well you take my cocks inside you and how you lose yourself to it. I enjoy your submission because you enjoy your submission and I wish for nothing more than to give you some peace.”

Eyelids fluttering, Wriothesley moved his head from Neuvillette’s grasp and the man let him, moving away to give him some space. Embarrassingly, his eyes were wet. Luckily, none of it fell. He couldn’t wrap his head around what Neuvillette’s words might mean for him; who was he to warrant such devotion from the Chief Justice of Fontaine; who was he to have stolen the attention of someone like Neuvillette? 

He wanted to say something; to somehow let Neuvillette know that his words meant so much to him, but that he should never have said them to begin with. Wriothesley knew he couldn’t return them even if he wanted to and he wasn’t sure that he did. But he didn’t want to hurt Neuvillette, that was one thing he never wanted, and he was beginning to realise that this had all been a big mistake. 

“Your silence is understandable and I would like to emphasise that I do not expect anything from you. I would, however, like it very much if we could continue our relationship as it has become. I enjoy your company very much and I enjoy being intimate with you.” 

Wriothesley was silent still, looking at Neuvillette who had retaken his chair on the other side of his desk, his eyes still misty with unshed tears but he didn’t mind anymore if they fell; Neuvillette wouldn’t judge him for his feelings, he knew that for certain now. 

“I’d like that,” he said at long last, his voice nothing but a near silent rasp. Neuvillette confused him; he couldn’t tell what the man was thinking, whether what Neuvillette felt for him was romantic or not and neither was he completely sure if Neuvillette knew the difference himself. Really all he could do was take Neuvillette at his word and try to reconcile the fact that while their feelings might be complicated, their situation didn’t have to be. He could meet Neuvillette once a week knowing that the man might have feelings for him that he couldn’t return, as long as it was what Neuvillette wanted. 

“Then I will look forward to next Wednesday. There’s no need to bring dinner, I would very much like to cook you a proper meal this time.”

Neuvillette gathered his papers into a neat stack and pushed them across the desk to Wriothesley before rising to his feet. 

“I believe you can get all the information you need from the budget report and the adjoining proposal, but feel free to message me should anything be unclear. I will take my leave now.” 

Neuvillette rounded the desk back to Wriothesley’s side and without hesitation took Wriothesley’s chin gently with his fingers and pulled him into a kiss that lingered long enough to leave Wriothesley breathless when they parted. 

“And I do mean anything, Wriothesley. This relationship of ours will only work if we are both on the same page.”

Wriothesley could hear the unsaid words as if they were his own heart beating rapidly in his chest. Neuvillette had shown his hand, now it was Wriothesley’s turn. But somehow, he felt that Neuvillette wouldn’t mind waiting. 

The third:

Wriothesley was more than a little nervous, perhaps even apprehensive, when he next called on Neuvillette. His empty hands had fidgeted the whole walk from his office to the surface, on the aquabus ride from Erinnyes and the walk from the station to Neuvillette’s apartment door on the third floor of the Palais Mermonia. More than once he wished he had brought a book, any book, just so he would have something to wrap his hands around and something to distract him on the seemingly endless commute. His nerves, it seemed though, had been unfounded as Neuvillette opened the door with a smile that made something swoop in Wriothesley’s stomach and invited him in not with a heated kiss in the mouth which would have been appropriate considering, but a lingering, intentional, kiss to the side of his face, just barely brushing the sensitive nerves of his ear. 

It was a hot kiss; it was a possessive kiss; it was a kiss that told him in no uncertain terms that tonight he was Neuvillette’s. 

“You are as precise as ever,” Neuvillette said as he pulled Wriothesley’s light jacket off his shoulders, leaving him with only his shoes to take off on his own. He couldn’t help but wonder if Neuvillette would undress him in the same way later, pulling his clothing off one by one until he was naked; couldn’t help but wonder if Neuvillette might savour it the same way he had savoured him the last time they fucked like they would be fucking tonight. 

“Well I hate to make people wait,” he said as he pushed his shoes into alignment against the wall, leaning subtly into Neuvillette as the man hung his jacket on a hook on the same wall. Neuvillette held still when he noticed Wriothesley’s proximity and smiled when Wriothesley simply hovered there, silently asking for more but respecting that he was not to demand it tonight. Neuvillette gave him a lingering, close-mouthed kiss and ran a hand over his lower back to hold his hip and Wriothesley melted into him with a whisper of a moan slipping from his lips. 

“The food is ready,” Neuvillette murmured against Wriothesley’s closed mouth and pulled him along through the hallway and past the sofa that they had desecrated twice already and into the dining room where the table was decked with steaming platters of crayfish and crab and mussels basted in butter and bowls of soup that smelled a lot like the oyster soup he had bought for their first dinner. Wriothesley couldn’t remember ever having seen so much food all at once and he wondered for a second if Neuvillette might have invited more guests; he couldn’t possibly expect them to eat all of it on their own. 

“The portions on the serving tray are for Lady Furina. She witnessed my purchases earlier today and insisted I make enough for her as well, she will be stopping by to pick it up any time now. 

Do not worry, I told her that under no circumstances would she be allowed to stay.”

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door and Neuvillette let go of Wriothesley to scoop up the tray from the end of the table, unusually hurried as he walked towards his front door again. The cause of his hurrying became clear to Wriothesley when he heard the door open before he reached it and a loud, dramatically cheerful voice sang through the halls and cavernous spaces of Neuvillette’s apartment. 

“My dear Iudex, I have come for my dinner,” Lady Furina sang and Wriothesley couldn’t help himself as he slid quietly to the corner where the open space blended from dining room to sitting room so he could better listen in. Their archon had a voice that was hard to miss, but Neuvillette’s was softer and far less prone to dramatic vocal swings. 

“As promised, Lady Furina. Now I do not mean to be rude, but I would prefer it if you would take the tray with you to your own apartment. I fear I have not the time to entertain you this evening,” Neuvillette was saying as Wriothesley slid into place, pressed against the wall and biting his lips against a sudden, unexpected bout of laughter. The Hydro Archon was quiet for a long moment; an abnormality if Neuvillette and Clorinde’s stories were to be believed, and they usually were. Wriothesley wondered if she might have noticed his shoes and jacket, both being clothing that very obviously did not belong to Neuvillette.

“Oh uh yes, of course,” Lady Furina stammered, a flood of nervous laughter escaping her that made Wriothesley wince in sympathy. “Thank you so much for the food, Neuvillette! I will take my leave now! Enjoy your evening!” A rushed patter of heels on marble and then the door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness after their Archon’s departure. Wriothesley pivoted around the corner to see Neuvillette still staring at the closed door, hands still up in front of him from when he was holding the tray of food. 

“How very odd,” he said, clearly to himself as he startled slightly when he turned to find Wriothesley watching him. The look of bewilderment on Neuvillette’s face was too much and Wriothesley burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he tried to contain himself to no avail. 

“Sometimes I cannot wrap my mind around her behaviour,” Neuvillette said, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth despite his confusion. Wriothesley’s amusement seemed to draw him in though and Wriothesley was finally able to calm himself when Neuvillette’s arms wrapped around him in a hug and the man pressed his own smile into the side of Wriothesley’s face. 

“She probably noticed the extra shoes in your hallway and figured, rightly so, that you were having a secret salacious affair,” Wriothesley said, words interspersed with chuckles. He swallowed heavily when Neuvillette began to sway, pulling them into something close to a dance as he hummed into Wriothesley’s ear. It was too intimate, far too intimate, but it was good enough that Wriothesley found he couldn’t pull away. Instead he wrapped his arms around Neuvillette’s waist and hid his face in Neuvillette’s shoulder and tried to smother the voice in his head that was shouting at him for taking advantage of Neuvillette’s feelings. He could tell himself that Neuvillette had never stated specifically that he had tender feelings for him, but every moment they spent together made it all the clearer to Wriothesley and he hated himself for his inability to return them. 

“We should eat before it gets cold,” Neuvillette murmured into his ear and Wriothesley hummed in agreement but held on for a little longer. Neuvillette was warm and he had craved his touch every moment they had been apart. 

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette began and Wriothesley pulled himself away, shaking his hands to dispel the tingles in his fingers. 

“Yeah, let’s eat,” he said and slunk back around the corner into the dining room. 

Cracking and eating a plate of crab legs and crayfish was inelegant and time consuming, but Wriothesley had never enjoyed a meal more. Neuvillette opened up in a way he had never seen before, regaling him with stories of his employees and Lady Furina but mostly about his Melusine daughters. He talked with pride about Sedene who handled most of the administrative work in the Palais and went on at length about Elphane, the most knowledgeable aquabus guide in all of Fontaine. 

“Everything I know about the Institute I learned from Elphane,” Wriothesley said before he bit into a morsel of crab meat and pulled it from its shell. Neuvillette watched him for a beat over the rim of his water goblet before his eyes dropped to the crayfish he was about to tear the head off.  

“Have you ever considered applying to the institute?” he asked, soft and unassuming but in a way that made Wriothesley suspect it was not an impulsive thought on Neuvillette's part. 

“What, be a student?” Wriothesley asked, his eyes widening a smidge. He had never even thought about it, but he couldn’t deny the idea had its own appeal. 

“I believe you would be a good fit; it is my understanding that you engineered your boxing gloves yourself and they are an impressive construct, especially considering you have had no professional tutelage.” Neuvillette put the peeled crayfish back on his plate and gave Wriothesley his full attention; clearly this was something he had given some amount of thought to. 

“You forget, Monsieur Neuvillette, who it is that provides Fontaine with most of its mecha guards. I got all the professional tutelage I could need from my peers in the Fortress,” Wriothesley said, his serious tone softened with a smile. 

“My apologies, Wriothesley, that was a short-sighted comment. You are right of course, and the idea that the only valid tuition can be found in high-browed institutions is highly elitist and not at all a reflection of my own ideals or opinions.” Neuvillette sat up straighter and placed his palms flat on the table as he spoke, a small furrow in his brow evidence enough that he had taken his own comment to heart in a way Wriothesley certainly had not. 

“It’s alright, Neuvillette. Really. I know your ideals probably better than I know my own. You praise me all the time for the changes I’ve made to the fortress, but seem to think nothing about the changes you have made to Fontaine’s justice system that serve many more than the measly population of the fortress that I preside over.” 

Neuvillette looked ready to argue so Wriothesley did what he only in that moment realised he could do and tangled their legs together under the table to shut him up. He had to bite his lips together to stifle the wide smile that threatened to split his lips as Neuvillette sucked in a breath and went still at once. 

“We have a working child welfare service now because of you, that’s something I will never stop being grateful for.”

Wriothesley went back to cracking open his crab legs and waited for Neuvillette to say something about it, but the man didn’t. He had always respected Writohesley’s want to not talk about things, but this time Wriothesley found himself feeling a little disappointed that he hadn’t at least tried. It was an unusual feeling for him as he was a staunch believer in not sharing. 

One of the first things they had done in collaboration was to rework the laws concerning juvenile offenders; one of the good things of Fontaine’s government was that the approval of new laws rested in Lady Furina’s hands in theory, but Neuvillette’s in practice so where Wriothesley had expected a fair amount of pushback on his ideas, the new laws had been put in place with very little obstruction. It had led to a reduction of almost a dozen sentences for people under the age of eighteen and the creation of a whole new department in the Palais for the handling of juveniles in community service. Now, the only child in the Fortress of Meropide was a girl named Lenoire whose parents had met and conceived her while serving their own sentences and Wriothesley was torn enough on how to handle that. 

“It should not have taken me so long,” Neuvillette said after a long moment in which Wriothesley thought they had moved on. His voice was quiet and subdued and drenched in regret.

“I don’t remember every case I have ever presided over, but I remember most of them and while a large number of them have been related to negligence of care, I could not remember ever having a case quite like yours in the years I had been Chief Justice. I didn’t want to convict you; considering the circumstances, I didn’t think you deserved the punishment you got, but I suspected that the Oratrice would not see it as I did, the evidence along with your confession of guilt was too overwhelming.” Neuvillette exhaled loudly, looking as if he had been wanting to say that for a long time and was relieved now that he finally had. Wriothesley felt a cold creep in from his fingers and toes, a feeling of restless discomfort coming over him that usually had him looking for the nearest exit. He didn’t want to run this time though, not from Neuvillette. 

“I appreciate it, but no matter the circumstances I was still on trial for murder, a double homicide no less. You did the right thing in convicting me. 

Anyway, in Meropide I had a roof over my head and actually had the chance at a meal every day; if anything you did me a favour.” He couldn’t help himself but to make light of it; making light of his own trauma was his way of dealing with it, but he could tell Neuvillette didn’t appreciate it. 

“Maybe one day we can talk about it,” he said, quickly guiding Neuvillette away from the topic before he could continue down the same road. “But I’d rather not do it while I’m having a really nice meal and when we’re about to have some really good sex.”

The look in Neuvillette’s eyes changed immediately. He didn’t push Wriothesley to finish, but he was clearly done eating as soon as Wriothesley reminded him of why he was there. Feeling a need to push Neuvillette’s limits in return, albeit in a different manner, Wriothesley took his time peeling crayfish and dipping them in the remoulade only to suck the sauce off and dipping the crayfish again before sliding the oblong meat into his mouth. He only got through two pieces in that way before Neuvillette was rising from his seat and coming around the table to stand beside him. Swallowing his last bite of crayfish, Wriothesley licked his lips and looked up at Neuvillette with widened eyes, a perfected look of exaggerated innocence. Neuvillette let his eyes glaze over Wriothesley’s face before stopping at his lips. Moving slowly, he dipped a finger in the remoulade and brought it to Wriothesley’s mouth, pushing it open with his thumb before feeding him his remoulade-stained finger. Without prompting, Wriothesley closed his lips around Neuvillette’s finger and sucked, wrapping his tongue around the length of it to ensure he got every drop of sauce. Neuvillette pulled his finger free from Wriothesley’s mouth and grabbed his chin with hard fingers, tilting his head up to meet him as he dove in for a kiss that was hard and hungry and all-encompassing. Wriothesley felt himself pulled from his seat and groaned loudly into Neuvillette’s mouth when his feet left the floor as the man lifted him into his arms. He felt a rush of air over his cheeks and then pain erupted in his back as Neuvillette moved quickly across the room and pushed him into a wall. 

“Ow,” Wriothesley mumbled around Neuvillette’s questing tongue and immediately a cool hand ran over his back and shoulders and the back of his head, soothing the jarring ache from his impact with the wall. Some day he was going to get properly hurt and he wouldn’t even care as long as Neuvillette was there with his soothing hands to heal him. 

“Apologies,” Neuvillette murmured into the curve of Wriothesley’s throat before he sucked flexible skin past his lips in a way that made Wriothesley melt. Please leave a mark please leave a mark. 

“No worries,” he managed as he buried his hands in Neuvillette’s hair and pulled him closer against his vulnerable throat, taking full advantage of Neuvillette’s strength to push himself away from the wall and into Neuvillette’s arms. He knew what Neuvillette wanted from him this time and he would give it to him. 

“Take me to bed, Monsieur,” he whispered into Neuvillette’s ear, licking along the tapered shape of it to the pointy end. A low growl echoed in the space between them and Neuvillette claimed his mouth once again, filling his mouth with his tongue as he pushed away from the wall and started to move. He walked blindly through his apartment to his bedroom, where he laid Wriothesley on his bed with the utmost care, not letting their mouths part for even a second.  Neuvillette’s flavour of dominance was one of care and single-minded focus and Wriothesley liked it; Neuvillette didn’t need a hard hand to put him in place as a single touch, an utterance of his name or even just a look from those utterly unique eyes was enough. 

“Be good for me, my sweet, and I will give you what you crave,” Neuvillette said softly while running his nose along the side of Wriothesley’s face and into his hair, smelling him like he always did when they were together like this. 

“Yes Monsieur,” Wriothesley gasped as Neuvillette chose that moment to rock their hips together in a slow but firm, undulating motion. A purr rumbled in Neuvillette’s chest and Wriothesley smiled at it; clearly Neuvillette approved of his choice of hypocoristic term for him. He knew he could never again call Neuvillette that outside of bed though, but he’d manage. Neuvillette never minded when he called him only by his name; it was everyone else who was offended on Neuvillette’s part if he was overheard and that Wriothesley couldn’t care less about. 

Neuvillette continued to purr as he slowly undressed him and Wriothesley felt himself relaxing into the softness of the bed as that sound settled in his chest and invaded his ears until he could hear nothing else but Neuvillette’s content rumbling. Once Wriothesley was naked, Neuvillette hooked his arms under his knees and pulled them up along his waist, little by little as if he was testing Wriothesley’s flexibility. A tiny laugh escaped him as the thought entered his mind and Neuvillette’s purring grew in volume as he pressed their lips together gently, humming lightly. He wondered where the sound came from as it obviously didn’t emit from his mouth, but the thought slipped away along with the rest when Neuvillette dipped his tongue past his lips and lifted his legs up to rest on his shoulders. The stretch burned, but Wriothesley didn’t mind; if this was how Neuvillette wanted him then he wouldn’t complain; if it was what Neuvillette wanted then he had no complaints. Neuvillette’s fingers ran along his skin in tiny featherlight touches and his mouth left Wriothesley’s to lay a path of kisses down his neck and to his chest and Wriothesley wanted to reach for him, wanted to pull him back in so they could kiss some more, but his hands were no longer his own, but were wrapped in cool hydro that slithered over his skin and guided his hands to his own backside. 

When the first finger slipped inside him it was still his own, but it was guided by Neuvillette’s will. It slipped easily into his hole and Wriothesley moaned loudly as much at the feeling as the confusing experience of his own body being used in such a way. Unlike his own limited connection with his element, Neuvillette’s magic was simply an extension of himself and it held the same debilitating strength as his hands did and the realisation that this man could control him like this without even touching him was enough to send Wriothesley under. His vision hazed so he closed his eyes; and Neuvillette’s purring was the only sound he could hear; and the touch of hands, his own and Neuvillette’s, and the sudden hot suction of Neuvillette’s mouth around his nipple was all that mattered. Only this moment with Neuvillette, in his bed, in his arms as he was all but folded in two and Neuvillette used his fingers to open him. 

“Monsieur,” he gasped when Neuvillette guided a third of his own fingers into his hole and the sound of his own voice echoed in his head. 

“I do not want to wait anymore, my sweet, but I will try not to hurt you.” Neuvillette’s words swam through his mind like a fallen leaf in a stream, back and forth, pulled by the currents of sensation as his fingers played with his prostate and Neuvillette sucked and bit on his chest with the most gentle fervour. He tried to speak but his tongue wouldn’t work so instead he pleaded with his body, arching his back and clenching around his fingers and tightening his thighs around Neuvillette’s head until the man bit down hard on the side of his breast in retaliation. 

“Patience Wriothesley,” he growled into his bruised skin and Wriothesley stilled on command, his back in a shallow arch. Neuvillette hummed and propped a hand under his back, holding him just like that as he guided the hydro coating Wriothesley’s fingers to spread his hole open. 

“Are you ready, my love?” Neuvillette mouthed at Wriothesley’s breast and dragged his nose up his sternum to his throat where he inhaled deeply as he aligned his hips with Wriothesley’s ass and thrust against him. Wriothesley held his breath as the anticipation washed over him of whether he would be getting Neuvillette’s cock or his ovipositor; he couldn’t tell as the dual heads slipped over his slick hole in tandem and made room for themselves between his ass cheeks. He didn’t think even Neuvillette was sure as he continued to thrust against him, the head of one catching on his open hole on the upwards motion while the other did the same on the downwards motion and Wriothesley bit his tongue so he wouldn’t beg and do something that might make Neuvillette pull away. He wanted to be good!

“Use your words, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette said, nudging him with his nose as he settled, the head of his cock poised at his hole. 

“Please,” Wriothesley gasped and tried to reach for Neuvillette’s cock as it bumped against his fingers, but the hydro coating them was unrelenting and all he could do was succumb to its hold on him. Neuvillette pushed harder against his slick hole, drawing a bitten-off yelp from Wriothesley’s lips as the head of his cock finally slipped inside.

“Do not silence yourself, Wriothesley. My wish is to hear your voice clearly; all the sounds of pleasure I may draw from you are mine to claim and you will not keep them from me.” 

Neuvillette’s voice was hard as ice, but not nearly as cold; coated in desire, every word from his mouth sent shivers down Wriothesley’s spine and Wriothesley didn’t think he could have resisted his demand even had he wanted to. Because it was a demand; there was no room to think it might’ve been a request, not with how Neuvillette suspended all action, a simple tease of his cock inside Wriothesley, until Wriothesley acquiesced. 

“Yes Monsieur,” he gasped and moaned loudly, mouth open and eyes pleading, as he tried to thrust himself onto Neuvillette’ cock.

“Good boy,” Neuvillette murmured and Wriothesley shuddered and then, first slowly and then quickly all at once, Neuvillette buried himself in Wriothesley’s body, as deep as he could.

“Ah! Yes! Oh fuck yes!” Head thrashing and body straining, Wriothesley clenched around Neuvillette as the suddenness of being filled to the brim caused his senses to haywire. The inevitable pain of the stretch was cancelled out by the pleasure of his prostate being immediately caressed and for a moment Wriothesley couldn’t breathe.

Neuvillette growled loudly, the sound reverberating through Wriothesley’s body as Neuvillette bent over him, folding him almost in two as his hips were raised from the bed and his knees almost touched his shoulders. As the guttural growl from Neuvillette’s throat seemed to have no end, Wriothesley waited for the man to move, begged him with words and actions to fuck him already, but Neuvillette didn’t listen. He stayed buried to the hilt inside Wriothesley even as he shook all over and held Wriothesley’s gaze with a look of his own that was nothing but hunger and need. Slowly, Wriothesley came to realise why as little by little, Neuvillette’s hydro energy began to slip inside him beside his cock, stretching him further bit by bit, making room for more inside him. 

“What,” Wriothesley gasped, moaning in both pain and pleasure as his own fingers were pushed inside him again on either side of Neuvillette’s cock. “What are you-” he tried again, but his voice faltered as the hydro slicking Neuvillette’s cock started to move, wiggling along its length and pushing against his prostate the way Neuvillette’s cock would have if he would just fuck him.

“Whether it is my cock or my ovipositor, you never seem fully satisfied with my size so this time I will give you both in the hopes that it will be good enough for you.”

Neuvillette licked a stripe up Wriothesley’s throat, a hint of teeth scraping his skin, and Wriothesley laughed even though he didn’t think Neuvillette meant it as a joke. He had somewhat missed the monstrous size Neuvillette’s cock had grown to when the man was in rut, but that was not to say that he had been unsatisfied without it. 

“No that’s not true,” he whined, unable to hold his eyes open as Neuvillette stretched him further open with his own fingers and a concentration of hydro that was so thick it was almost gel-like. 

“You cannot hide anything from me, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette growled and rocked his hips into Wriothesley, shifting his cock inside him the barest amount and coaxing a high-pitched moan from Wriothesley’s lips. “I will give you all that I have. I will fuck you so deep you will feel me in your stomach, the way I know you enjoyed more than anything.” 

Neuvillette’s hands were firm on his hips and lower back, his weight bearing down on Wriothesley’s shoulders as he was pressed into a position his body could barely withstand. His own fingers were pulled from his hole and he was left gaping around Neuvillette’s cock for only a moment. His mouth had barely the time to form a plea before Neuvillette was pushing against him with the heads of both his lengths and Wriothesley swallowed his words as they slowly pushed inside him. 

His hole was stretched wide around the circumference of Neuvillette’s cocks, but was teased open even wider by a rush of slick hydro sent to ease the way. It lapped at his walls and moved between Neuvillette’s cock and ovipositor and deep inside him; a wiggling, living entity all on its own that had Wriothesley cumming before Neuvillette was even halfway inside him. 

“Good boy,” Neuvillette hummed as Wriothesley relaxed after his toe-curling orgasm, loosening under him and around him so that Neuvillette could thrust his cocks in to the hilt, bearing down on him until Wriothesley was truly bent in half, his ass raised in the air in such a way he could do nothing but take what Neuvillette meant to give him. 

Soft from his orgasm, Wriothesley expected that familiar haze to settle over his mind and block out all thoughts, everything that didn’t pertain to how he was being fucked, but it never came. Instead, his mind cleared and his senses heightened and even though he had been stimulated enough that every thrust of Neuvillette’s cocks now carried with it a stinging pain, he could feel his body galloping towards another orgasm already. 

“You are so good for me, my sweet Wriothesley. My Wriothesley. You take me so well.” 

Neuvillette’s voice was steady but Wriothesley could tell he had already lost his grip. There was a wildness to his eyes that Wriothesley had never seen before, a harshness to his touch he had never felt before. What probably should have scared him only sent a thrill through his blood; Neuvillette was losing control and it was because of him. 

“Come on, fuck me … fuck me hard Neuvillette I know you can do it,” he goaded, digging his head into the pillows when Neuvillette immediately listened as it was the only part of his body he could move. He was leashed, by Neuvillette’s body, by his power; unable to fight it as Neuvillette fucked him harder and harder, hips slamming into his with such force Wriothesley thought they might very well break and it hurt, but fuck it was good too. His hole was stretched so wide he feared it may never recover, and his stomach ached from being all but beaten by the heads of Neuvillette’s cocks as they surged deep inside him with the speed and strength of someone utterly inhuman. It sent him hurtling into a second orgasm faster than he had thought was even possible, but still Neuvillette gave him no quarter. Overwhelmed, all Wriothesley could do was watch Neuvillette through misty eyes as the man sought his own relief in his body, claiming him for his own so thoroughly Wriothesley knew there would be no going back. When Neuvillette finally came, he did so with a narrowly aborted clamping of his teeth into Wriothesley’s throat and a growl against his skin that morphed into a hoarse, frustrated yell. He filled Wriothesley with so much cum he could feel it in his stomach; could feel it forcing itself out of his hole when Neuvillette moved. And he never stopped moving; his cocks were softening, but he wouldn't stop; as he lowered Wriothesley onto his back again, he still wouldn't stop and even as Neuvillette collapsed onto his side with an exhausted whine he only brought Wriothesley with him and kept fucking him with shallow, gentle thrusts, small spurts of cum leaving his cocks every few seconds. 

“Neuvillette?” Wriothesley tried, but his voice was so hoarse it barely made a sound and Neuvillette showed no indication that he had heard him as he only buried his face in Wriothesley’s throat and breathed him in. Slowly, Wriothesley felt Neuvillette’s ovipositor retract and disappear back into its folds and in the cavernous space it left behind it wasn’t long before Neuvillette’s cock fell out as well, leaving him empty and gaping in a way he had never felt before. Neuvillette hummed into his throat, kisses accompanied with a scrape of teeth pressed to his skin, one hand holding him close while the other caressed his side and the thigh he had tossed over Neuvillette’s waist.

“Neuvillette?” He tried again, but still he got no response; whatever had come over his lover this night had clearly yet to leave him. He wondered if it had something to do with his animal instincts—wondered if maybe he should have been a little more worried about what it might mean—but in the moment, he found he couldn’t have cared less. Neuvillette had fucked him like he wanted to leave a permanent mark on him, like he wanted to ruin him for anyone else, and he had succeeded, and that notion wasn’t as scary as he thought it might have been. He wrapped his arms around Neuvillette and pulled him close to his chest and there he fell asleep to the snuffling sound of Neuvillette’s breath, the scrape of his teeth against his throat and the soothing touch of his wandering hand.

And when he woke the next morning and stretched and turned on his back and Neuvillette’s cheek came to rest on his shoulder, his hand on his stomach, he remembered the single utterance of love Neuvillette had made the night before and he couldn’t deny how warm it had made him feel.

Chapter Text

“Your Grace? Your Grace? Your Grace?” Sigewinne’s soft voice penetrated the veil of sleep in Wriothesley’s mind, regretfully bringing him back to a state of awake. He had been having a nice dream; the details of it were unretainable but he knew that it had been very nice and he had wanted to stay in it. 

“What?” he asked without lifting his head from his arms; as Sigewinne came to stand beside him she exuded an aura of such disappointment that he would rather not face her at the moment. 

“You have been falling asleep all day , Your Grace . Are you alright?” 

“Is this the Head Nurse asking or are you just going to bug me about my sleeping habits again?” He turned his face towards his small assistant and smiled faintly at her, well aware that his stalling would only aggravate her. 

“I am still Head Nurse when I bug you ! But this isn’t your normal lax attitude at play, you fell asleep in the middle of your work! If Monsieur Neuvillette is wearing you out like this then I might have to have a talk with him about knowing your limits!” 

Wriothesley was on his feet and shaking the last residue of sleep from his body long before she was done speaking. The prospect of Sigewinne talking to Neuvillette about their arrangement was a terrifying one that he would like to avoid at all cost. 

“There’s no need for that. If I’m a little tired today it has more to do with how early I was awake than anything else ,” he assured her, but it didn’t look like she believed him much. 

“I would believe you more, Your Grace, if you weren’t wincing so much,” Sigewinne said in a deadpan voice. Wriothesley took a breath and looked at her with a tight smile barely stretching his lips. 

“I appreciate your concern, Sigewinne, I do, but to put it bluntly this is none of your concern. I’m a grown man, I don’t allow anything I don’t want and Neuvillette respects that.” 

Sigewinne stared at him in silence for a long time and Wriothesley held her gaze. When she finally relented she did so with a heavy sigh and a slouching of her whole body that brought a true smile to Wriothesley’s mouth; she could be so dramatic at times. 

“Will you at least let me help settle some of that energy swirling inside you? It might be what is making you feel so tired.” She looked at him imploringly and Wriothesley sighed fondly and went to sit on the low table in front of his sofa. 

“Go ahead, nurse Sigewinne,” he said with fanfare, spreading his arms out at his sides. She came to stand in front of him and swatted him on a knee with a smile before placing her small hand on his stomach, right below his bottommost ribs. 

“I’m not going to ask what you did last night, but all of this came from Monsieur Neuvillette,” she said as she slowly moved her hand in a circle over his shirt. He could feel faint movement in his stomach, not unlike the clenching feeling of hunger pains, and when they dissolved he did feel better, lighter and more alert than he had all day. 

“There we go,” she said with a last gentle pat to his stomach. “I hope you feel better now!”

He smiled back at her and thanked her with a soft pat to her head; however much she could annoy him at times, he would always care for her an even greater amount. 

“Thanks Sigewinne, whatever would I do without you,” he teased, forgetting for a moment that her hand was still on his stomach before she poked him hard with a finger. Even with her healing, his stomach was still sore from the beating it had taken the night before from Neuvillette’s cocks, but it was a pleasant ache, at least when he wasn’t being bludgeoned by tiny Melusine fingers. 

“Ow,” he whined, laughing slightly when Sigewinne’s brows furrowed once again in concern. Fortunately, she didn’t say anything. About his aches at least. 

“I am happy for you though,” she said, sounding almost shy. “And for Monsieur Neuvillette. I think you’re a good match!” She smiled up at him and Wriothesley didn’t have the heart to tell her to her sweet face that it wasn’t like that so he only smiled back at her and did his best to hide how torn he felt inside. 

When she left his office, he slumped back into his desk chair and picked up the report he had been sleeping on before, but even as he felt more alert than he had done, he found it impossible to focus on the words on the page. The more his mind churned, the more his pulse quickened; he couldn’t discard the thought that something had been different the night before, unrelated to Neuvillette’s previous half-declaration of feelings. Or not un related, possibly, but something had come over Neuvillette when he had both his cocks inside him and Wriothesley had a sneaking suspicion of why that was. The excess energy in his stomach and how it had affected him only reinforced his suspicions. Neuvillette had been trying to breed him; not properly as he knew it wasn’t possible outside of rut, and maybe not even intentionally, but he was sure of it. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, but he put that down to the fact that he knew there was no danger of it actually bearing fruit; Neuvillette wanted him enough to lose his mind over him and truthfully there was nothing sexier than that. What did worry him was what it meant for Neuvillette. Wriothesley was sure of his decision; if Neuvillette wanted children then he would have to find someone else; a family was not something Wriothesley could ever give him. 

He dropped the file on his desk with a sigh and slumped back in his seat, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. Until a month ago his life had been so simple; he did his work, he had his monthly meetings with Neuvillette and the occasional friendly rendezvous with Clorinde and the rest of his time he devoted to the Wingalet and his research and there was nothing untoward bothering him except for the occasional fantasy about a certain long-haired aristocrat. Those fantasies had been frequent, but they had been simple—a late night meeting under lamplight where work and tiresome reports was inevitably exchanged with questing hands and hungry kisses—and sure, they had at times made it difficult to look Neuvillette in the eye but they had never made him feel the way he was feeling now. Neuvillette had been very clear on how he felt about Wriothesley and he in turn had taken advantage of the man’s feelings for the purpose of getting sex. It didn’t matter much to his conscience that Neuvillette had invited him in despite already knowing this; the guilt had made its home in Wriothesley’s chest and it wouldn’t be leaving until he made things right. 

As if summoned by his dark thoughts, a heavy knock on his office door resounded through the room made of metal. 

“I’m popular today,” Wriothesley muttered to himself and raised his voice enough to be heard as he yelled “it’s open!” 

He didn’t bother moving from his slumped position as the doors opened and closed, but his spine stiffened as his body inexplicably entered flight mode when the thread of heeled boots up the stairs was accompanied by the clack of a steel-tipped cane. Neuvillette. 

The Chief Justice didn’t announce himself as he ascended the stairs, something he always did, and his silence was more than a little disconcerting. Wriothesley wanted to call out a greeting, but found himself muzzled by Neuvillette’s silence. Their eyes met from across the room and Wriothesley knew immediately that this was no professional meeting. Neuvillette looked haggard; his face was grey and the skin around his eyes twitched every other second and his lips were so pallid they were almost white. Wriothesley was on his feet in a heartbeat, crossing the room to Neuvillette and taking him by the arm to guide him to sit down on the sofa.

“Neuvillette, gods, what’s happened?” he asked as he fussed about tucking a pillow behind Neuvillette’s back and otherwise making him comfortable. Neuvillette halted him with a hand, taking his fingers in a firm grip which quickly gentled and then fell away completely. 

“Nothing has happened. I am fine , Wriothesley,” Neuvillette said, but his voice was hoarse and Wriothesley didn’t believe him for a second. Neuvillette looked like he had been sick, and he sounded like it too. 

“I was not sure if coming here would be the right thing to do, or if you would even want to see me, but I have to try. The least I owe you is an apology.” Neuvillette looked at Wriothesley every other second while he talked, but he seemed unable to hold his gaze as his eyes inevitably drifted away in obvious shame. 

“An apology? For what? Neuvillette, why wouldn't I want you here?” 

When Neuvillette still wouldn't look at him, Wriothesley moved to sit in front of him on the sofa table, spreading his feet to either side of him and putting his hands on Neuvillette’s knees to pin him down. Neither of them were getting out of this after a statement like that; even if it took all day they would have all the talks now. 

“Look at me,” Wriothesley implored, stroking Neuvillette’s thighs to show him he had no reason to hide; whatever Neuvillette thought he had done wrong—and Wriothesley suspected it had to do with their time together the night before—it was up to him to clear things up.

“Neuvillette, look at me,” he repeated, steel in his voice as Neuvillette still refused. Neuvillette’s head jerked around, eyes meeting his in a motion that looked almost involuntary, and Wriothesley’s mouth opened on a quiet gasp as he was caught off guard. He was met with a look of such intense focus Wriothesley would be hard-pressed to describe it as anything but wild, but it barely lasted a heartbeat before it melted into naked shame and Neuvillette’s gaze slipped once again from his.

“No, look at me. Please.” Neuvillette had reacted to the command in a way Wriothesley never would have expected from him, but he didn’t want to force the man, not ever but especially not when he was so distraught. “Please, look at me and tell me why you think you owe me an apology so that I can tell you you’re wrong.”

Neuvillette finally looked at him, his eyes a little clearer but veiled with confusion; he was clearly convinced that he had done something egregious and Wriothesley smiled and continued stroking Neuvillette’s thighs as the physical contact seemed to calm him. Or at least convince him that Wriothesley was not suddenly repulsed by him. 

“I would like to preface with that I remember very little of last night; the last thing I remember with clarity is putting you down on my bed,” Neuvillette began and Wriothesley bit his tongue to stop himself from interrupting. He already had a suspicion of where this was going. “Beyond that, I have mere glimpses of what happened, but I know very well what was going through my own mind at the time and so I know that you are owed an apology, even if you may not think so now.”

Neuvillette was tense under Wriothesley’s hands and the look in his eyes turned to steel as he dared Wriothesley to refute him, and while Wriothesley wanted nothing more than to do so he kept his silence and allowed Neuvillette the space he needed to tell his story. But his hands stubbornly remained on top of Neuvillette’s thighs even as the man tried to brush them off; if Neuvillette truly didn’t want his touch then he would not allow it at all.

 “Whatever I said, whatever you think it is we did, you should know that the only thing on my mind was to breed you. It was a need that overwhelmed me to the point I could not even comprehend the impossibility of it as I was not in rut and my body was not producing eggs; I still took you with the intent to give you my eggs and to fertilise them and as such bind you to me in a way I have not been allowed to do. My actions last night were a violation of our agreed-upon terms and they were a violation of you, whether you were aware of it or not. So yes Wriothesley, I do owe you an apology, I owe you much more than an apology.”

As he talked, Wriothesley watched Neuvillette grow even paler, his mesmerising amethyst eyes dull and his hands begin to shake where he clasped them tightly in his lap. He wouldn't be surprised if Neuvillette got sick all over them as he forced himself to recount his version of their night together. He was sure Neuvillette had already been sick from recounting it.

“I want to claim you, Wriothesley. Even now the urge is so strong,” Neuvillette said, gasping, his eyes dropping to Wriothesley’s bare neck. “I thought I could do this your way, that I could have a human relationship, but I can’t. I am not made for casual sex, I am not equipped to let you go after sharing something so intimate with you, and in attempting to be I have hurt you in ways beyond my worst nightmares.”

This was turning into a far trickier situation than Wriothesley had anticipated. There was no way he could simply tell Neuvillette that they were alright—that Wriothesley didn’t experience it that way at all—without also insinuating that Neuvillette might be overreacting, and he didn’t think that was truly the case. Something about last night had gone against Neuvillette’s most base values and Wriothesley had to sort out what that was.

“Do you feel that you violated me,” he began haltingly, searching for Neuvillette’s eyes as they flickered back and forth to avoid his, “because you lost control of your instincts? Am I understanding you correctly?”

Neuvillette went still, eyes closed tightly so the twitch of the skin at the corner of his eyes was exacerbated; he took a loud breath through his nose and nodded once.

“Then let’s talk about that, but first I need you to know Neuvillette, that I don’t feel violated, not in the slightest. What happened between us last night was one-hundred percent consensual on my part and I would do it again right now if circumstances were different.” Neuvillette finally met his eyes of his own accord, searching for any hint of falsehood most likely, and Wriothesley met him head on; he wouldn't hide from Neuvillette any longer. 

“Now you know where I stand, so let’s talk,” he smiled and stroked his palms up and down Neuvillette’s thighs once. “You’re going to have to guide me through this though because I think there’s quite a few layers to these instincts of yours that I still don’t get.”

Neuvillette was silent for a long time after that, but Wriothesley could see his mind churning behind his beautiful eyes; sometimes their hands touched, Neuvillette brushing his fingers over the tops of Wriothesley’s hands and up to his wrist, circling them to push his thumb into Wriothesley’s pulse and feel its steady beat for the barest second before pulling away as if Wriothesley’s skin was scalding him. It broke Wriothesley’s heart a little bit every time; Neuvillette was afraid to touch him, and while he knew Neuvillette would vehemently refuse it, Wriothesley knew it was his fault. He was the one who kept insisting, who pushed himself on Neuvillette when the man had been perfectly content with his annual mating cycle; he had been the one who refused to leave Neuvillette a month ago when the man was in rut—for all Wriothesley knew that had been as much of a violation as the one Neuvillette was laying out, possibly even more. Neuvillette had seemed so in control of himself both times Wriothesley had seen him in rut, but what did he even know about it? For all he knew Neuvillette had as little control of himself in rut as Wriothesley had memories of their first time together, meaning not much at all. Gods but this was turning into a right mess. 

“I would not call it instincts, per say,” Neuvillette began, his deep voice stilted and ripe with uncertainty. “It is not something that is dictated by who or what I am, rather it is a part of my genetic makeup, my nature if you will. Intercourse for me has always been about reproduction; it is why my body attains an enhanced libido while it is producing eggs, to ensure that I am capable of passing them, an act that is far from easy. While my ruts are both mentally and physically exhausting, it was easier with you because I had somewhere to direct all that energy, granting me a clarity of mind that was surprising to say the least.” 

Guess that answered that; at least Neuvillette had been able to refuse had he wanted to.

“It was no hardship for me to refrain from giving you my eggs when I actually had them, which is why I was taken so off-guard last night when the need overcame me and I could not stop.”

All at once, Neuvillette’s face drained of colour and his throat bobbed like he was about to be sick, but it never happened. Wriothesley wanted to hold him, to squeeze him so tightly that all these thoughts left his head once and for all. It was getting harder by the minute to not just knock it into his brain that Neuvillette had done nothing wrong towards him and that this self-hatred he was drowning in was unwarranted because Wriothesley had never once felt violated by this man and he knew with a bone-deep certainty that he never would! But he knew it wouldn't matter to Neuvillette; it was sounding more and more like Neuvillette himself had been violated by his own nature—betrayed by his own body and mind—and that was not something easily soothed. 

“You did stop yourself though,” Wriothesley said, maybe a touch too loudly as the memory came back to him like a wrecking ball in free fall. “I don’t know exactly what it means, but I’m going to assume from how you reacted last night that it means something significant to you, but you stopped yourself from biting me. You were going to bite my neck, but you didn’t.”

Neuvillette’s hand moved seemingly of its own accord to Wriothesley’s neck, tracing the scarred skin with a gloved finger, his mouth slightly open, looking like he could hardly believe what Wriothesley was saying.

“You didn’t fight me off?” he asked, his voice faint.

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn't have. I’ve wanted you to bite me every time your teeth touched my skin! It’s been a constant buzz in my head, pleading for you to finally mark me up a … little. I think I’m gonna stop there,” Wriothesley trailed off, the brief excitement fizzling out of his voice like air from a punctured balloon. Neuvillette was looking at him like he had said something outrageous, but at the same time Wriothesley could detect a hint of that familiar heat in his eyes before his gaze dropped to his neck, marked only by old scars.

“What does that mean to you? Why have you always been so careful about not biting me?”

Neuvillette exhaled harshly through his teeth and pulled away, slumping against the back of the sofa in a highly undignified way, nothing like the Neuvillette he was used to seeing.

“It is a mating bite. I’m not sure if it would mean anything to humans, but to other beings like myself it would be a claim, something to show that you belong to me. It is as I said; intercourse for the sake of pleasure—while it is something I have enjoyed immensely—is not something that comes naturally to me, rather it is something I have learned. But that does not change the nature of who I am and the fact is that once you shared yourself with me in such a way it became paramount to me that you never did the same with anyone else. That is why the need to claim you is so strong, and I despise myself for struggling so much to refrain from doing so because you have never consented to being claimed. You have consented to sex, you have never consented to taking my eggs and carrying them to fruition and being my mate and still this is what I attempted to do to you, so that you would be mine. So yes, it was a violation on my part.”

The words came faster from Neuvillette’s mouth by the end, spilling from his lips in such a way that from anyone else would have been nigh intelligible, but every word was clear and concise and carried the weight of the Chief Justice’s sentencing. Neuvillette had already heard both the prosecution and the defence and had cast his sentence on himself before he had even stepped foot in the fortress; now he was here to hand himself over to the warden of his self-made prison. Well, he was out of luck; Wriothesley refused to take him. Digging his heels into the floor, he pushed himself and the heavy table he was sitting on away from the sofa to make more space between them; he could already predict Neuvillette would not take well to what he was about to say.

“I am the one who pushed for a casual intimate relationship; knowing what I know now of your nature, was that not as much a violation of you?”

With a sharp exhale through his nose, Neuvillette rose to his feet and took three large strides away from the sofa before turning to Wriothesley with a look in his eyes befitting their setting, deep in the icy depths of the sea. 

“No, it is not. I agreed to that; you asked and I agreed, those are the terms that stipulate a contract between equal parties. Consent is always the deciding factor.”

“And I consented to this! I’m pretty sure I’ve been telling you from the beginning to give me all you got!” Wriothesley shot to his feet as well, not prepared to let the condescending tone tailing Neuvillette’s words slide. 

“I highly doubt you knew what you were consenting to; at the time you said that you were unaware of my ovipositor and so unable to make an informed decision.” Wriothesley was stumped by the fact that Neuvillette remembered when he had said it as he only had a vague recollection of those words passing his lips that for all he knew could have been a dream, but he shook it off quickly enough; Neuvillette had fully taken on the condescending tone now and he did not like it. 

“So? That sounds like my mistake,” Wriothesley quipped, working hard to keep his tone light. 

“It is not your mistake when I intentionally withheld information from you. You never consented to being bred.” Contrary to Wriothesley’s intentionally unaffected tone, Neuvillette’s voice grew dark, that self-loathing that clung to him like a second skin would not be easily shaken. 

A laugh burst from Wriothesley’s mouth, but there was nothing happy about it. He could handle rowdy prisoners; he could handle clever prisoners; he didn’t know how to handle this . How could he even begin to make Neuvillette believe that it didn’t matter—whatever it was that made him feel like he had wronged Wriothesley—it didn’t matter because Wriothesley had never in his life felt wronged by this man. 

“You weren’t in rut. Breeding me wasn’t even a possibility at this time, so in my opinion that renders your point mute.”

“It does not matter if it was viable or not when it was my intention to breed you!” Neuvillette finally raised his voice, clearly annoyed that Wriothesley wasn’t taking this as seriously as him, and while Wriothesley would never admit it, it felt good to be yelled at. To have pushed Neuvillette into the feelings he claimed were difficult to comprehend but that Wriothesley knew he felt acutely even so.

“If intention is so important, would you prosecute a man for simply thinking of a crime if he never committed it?”

Neuvillette’s mouth tightened. “No, of course not.”

“So stop prosecuting yourself for your thoughts!” Wriothesley reached out for Neuvillette, but the man kept his distance, the look he gave Wriothesley a clear warning not to touch him. So Wriothesley stared back instead, trying his best to convey with his eyes what he was far more adept at telling through touch.

“Thoughts can’t always be controlled and they don’t matter as much as our actions.”

Neuvillette’s face took on the mien Wriothesley was familiar with seeing when the man was considering a question or contemplating a conundrum, and with it the tense atmosphere lightened somewhat; hopefully they would get through this without it devolving into an argument. 

“I disagree. Our thoughts define us and cannot be so easily disregarded simply because they are not all acted upon. Would you forgive a man for his thoughts of harming children as long as he never acted on them?”

Wriothesley might as well have left a sluice open with how quickly that hope was sucked out of him. For the first time, a spark of real anger ignited in him and he clenched his fists at his sides and was forced to take a deep breath to avoid saying something he didn’t mean. He gritted his teeth and exhaled in a hiss between his teeth, not placated in the slightest as a look of regret painted itself over Neuvillette’s face. 

“That’s a low blow, Neuvillette. Of course I wouldn't, but that’s not a valid comparison to make right now.” His voice took on a gritty quality as he spoke from behind clenched teeth. The very idea that Neuvillette would think to compare himself to a child abuser because he had thoughts about impregnating the man he was in a consensual, sexual relationship with was ludicrous; even so, it was reality. It was illogical bordering on demented in Wriothesley’s opinion, that Neuvillette would hold himself to such a standard that not even a stray thought was beyond reproach. But Neuvillette was not an illogical man so clearly there was something Wriothesley was still not getting. 

“I am sorry; in trying to make you see my point of view I aimed to use your own experiences against you. I had no right to do that.” This time it was Neuvillette who reached out, fingers shaking as he reached for Wriothesley’s hand and with an exhale like he had been holding his breath for hours Wriothesley accepted it, cradling Neuvillette’s hand between his own. 

“Apology accepted,” he whispered and took a step closer, drawn to Neuvillette like he always was by some unseen force. He wanted to be close to the man, to touch him and hold him and feel him breathe and to feel his willowy, strong arms holding him up when the weight on his shoulders was too much. He wanted to love him, but he didn’t think he had the right to. 

“Please, tell it to me straight. I need to understand and right now I still don’t,” Wriothesley said, taking Neuvillette’s other hand in his and pulling him closer. “Why do you feel like you did something wrong?” 

Neuvillette sighed imperceptibly and his face became a blank slate and his gaze moved far away in what was clearly an attempt at keeping himself in check. 

“In simple terms, for me sex is unanimous with breeding and you never consented to being bred and thus never consented to sex. I know logically that you see it differently and I appreciate your adamancy in telling me this, but truthfully that matters little to how I feel.”

He had asked Neuvillette to keep it simple, but as the words he had been quietly denying in his own mind were put in stark simplicity, Wriothesley couldn’t think up another reason to keep denying them. It made sense—to his head, but never ever to his heart—why Neuvillette would feel like he had violated him and a feeling of violent regret swept over Wriothesley. He should have put an end to this after the last time they were together here in this room; he should never have gone to Neuvillette knowing that the man felt things for him that Wriothesley was not prepared to reciprocate, no matter how much he did. And he did. He had always cared for Neuvillette; it wouldn't take a lot to change his feelings into something deeper, and it hadn’t. He felt it now more acutely than ever as Neuvillette retreated into himself, when his hurt was so palpable Wriothesley could all but smell it in the air and he had no idea how to help. All he could do was hold on when Neuvillette pulled away; wrap his fingers tighter around Neuvillette’s in a silent plea he didn’t think he had the right to say out loud.

“I did not come here seeking sympathy,” Neuvillette said quietly; correctly judging the emotion in Wriothesley’s face while at the same time completely misconstruing it. 

“It’s empathy,” Wriothesley said, just as quietly. “What I’m feeling right now is empathy. I know what it’s like to know in my heart I’ve done something wrong while having people around me tell me it wasn’t. That’s how I know it won’t matter what I say right now.”

He took a deep breath, slowly pulling Neuvillette in until they were almost pressed together.

“I suppose all we can do now is to make sure we are both on the same page concerning what we want moving forward. You’ve been clear on what you want, so I guess it’s my turn.

I’ve gone through a lot of loops to get to where I am right now and there are a lot of things I want to do with you that I thought for sure I would never be comfortable with trying a month ago. I had already come to the conclusion that I want to take your eggs, I want to share your rut in its entirety with all that entails, assuming that we could avoid any long-term consequences of doing so. I want you Neuvillette; I want to be with you like we have, but also in ways we haven’t. And if you could tell me right now that you are honestly, one-hundred-percent sure, that you would be satisfied with giving me your eggs when you need to but never fertilising them then I think we could have something good, but I can tell from the look on your face that that’s a hard no.

Wow, never thought your face could be so easy to read.” A laugh burst from Wriothesley’s lips, but it was born out of nerves and not amusement. Neuvillette’s mouth twitched in response, but there was little humour in him either.

“You do not want children,” he stated with little inflection in his voice and Wriothesley felt his fingers twitch beneath his own. 

“I don’t think I should have any,” Wriothesley added, smiling wryly. His stomach sank as Neuvillette’s face took on a contemplative mien and he knew immediately that Neuvillette was going to argue the point and that was the last thing Wriothesley wanted. 

“They would not be human children. Hatching them and setting them free in the ocean would be a perfectly acceptable thing to do.” Neuvillette’s hand twisted in Wriothesley’s grip, changing their hold into a mutual thing as Neuvillette lifted his free hand to Wriothesley’s face and stroked a piece of hair out of his eyes. 

“Could you do that?” Wriothesley asked and Neuvillette smiled.

“Of course. As soon as they were capable of caring for themselves it is what I would have done regardless. Dragonlings are hardier than human babies, and learn better on their own.”

“Could you do that?” Wriothesley asked again and watched confusion morph into contemplation into realisation on Neuvillette’s face as he finally understood what Wriothesley was really asking.

“No matter what shape they came in—no matter the species—they would be of us , or you at least I don’t really know how it would work-” “They would be yours as much as mine,” Neuvillette interrupted and Wriothesley didn’t know what else to do but smile at the hint of hope in the man’s voice. “They would be of us and I could never let them go like that.”

“Then we would keep them with us; raise them in a safe environment; whatever you want.” Neuvillette’s hand was cold against the back of his neck, but it was a comforting cold reminiscent of the weight of Neuvillette’s hand on top of his head that time the sight of Neuvillette had sent him spiralling and he couldn’t get out on his own. Wriothesley had never thought he would have that again; the altruistic care and affection of another person that he had been without since he was a child. His parents may have been crooks, but the way they had made him feel had been real and he only realised in that moment how much he had missed having that type of safety net. Neuvillette could be that for him. In another world maybe.

“No,” he whispered, biting his lips closed but unable to stop his eyes from watering. It didn’t matter anyway; this was not the time to suppress his emotions. 

“I understand,” Neuvillette said quietly, his fingers slipping into Wriothesley’s thick hair. “No, I do not. But I accept it,” he amended himself with a tight smile. 

“Then I suppose this is it.”

Wriothesley didn’t want it to be—there was nothing he wanted less than for this thing with Neuvillette to be over—but he knew that there was no way for them to be together that would not hurt at least one of them. 

“I suppose it is,” he said, a watery exhale slipping from him as Neuvillette pulled him in for one last kiss, warmed by their acknowledged feelings but weighed down by the finality of it all. It would be the last time they touched like this; it had to be. Moving forward their relationship would be strictly professional, like it always should’ve been. 

Neuvillette’s eyes glistened when he pulled back, but Wriothesley couldn’t say if it was from tears or the blue sheen that sometimes overcame him. 

“At least let me say it once before I go or I fear I will never have the chance to do so,” Neuvillette said, his hand still holding the back of Wriothesley’s head, his other hand still clutched in Wriothesley's grip.

“Say it,” Wriothesley whispered, choked but smiling.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Wriothesley didn’t sleep for three days after his breakup with Neuvillette—if it could be called a breakup—and when he finally did get some sleep it was in the form of an exhausted collapse in his desk chair and it was fitful and filled with dreams he couldn’t remember the details of when he woke up. He kept to his office and buried himself in paperwork during the day and escaped to the pankration ring at night to expel the restless energy he somehow still had after seventy hours of no sleep on unsuspecting training dummies. 

Sigewinne obviously knew something was wrong—he could tell from her drooping rhinophores—but she didn’t say anything. On any other day he would have been relieved, but he quickly realised that her silence was the consequence of her already having talked to Neuvillette and then he didn’t know how to feel. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing; he had read enough romance stories to recognise that he was coping, and he was familiar enough with regret to recognise its weight in his stomach and its clenching grip on his heart. But he was also used to living without the things he wanted, and after his collapsing nap at his desk Wriothesley was finally able to replace the mantle of Warden of the fortress that he had taken off for Neuvillette. The days passed with little fanfare and little untoward for him to handle but the odd counterfeiting scheme and needless advertisement attempt from clueless overworld companies and Wriothesley felt very much like what he was always supposed to be: just another cog in the machine. There was little but the blood running through his veins to distinguish him from the gardemeks produced in the fortress’ workshops and he often wondered if the loud clang of his heavy steps echoed as much in other people’s heads as they did in his. He was both acutely introspective and exceedingly thoughtless as he filled his mind with work and the things he had read all to silence the voice that was yearning for only one thing; and he felt a shortness of breath like his throat was closing in on itself every time he glanced at his calendar and saw the day of his next meeting with Neuvillette move ever closer. 

He didn’t think he could do it; there was no way he could sit in a room with Neuvillette and talk about expenses and supply and demand and all kinds of shallow concepts when what he wanted to talk about was how he had never felt love like this before and what family meant to Neuvillette and how their opinions might differ on such things. 

Which is probably why—on the day before their scheduled meeting—Wriothesley couldn’t for the life of him hide his relief when Clorinde showed up in his office with a thick envelope addressed to him in Neuvillette’s beautiful cursive.

“I caught the Iudex as he was sending this off with an orderly,” Clorinde said in lieu of a greeting and placed the envelope on his desk, careful not to disturb the files spread across it. “Asked if he would allow me to deliver it instead.”

Wriothesley reached for the letter with a hesitant hand, almost surprised that it wasn’t shaking with how unstable he felt inside. The large format made him think it was work related and the thickness felt familiar so he already suspected what it contained, but the curve of his name written on the front felt intimate and he couldn’t stop himself from tracing the shape of it, blissfully ignorant to Clorinde’s searching stare. 

“Good,” she said after a prolonged silence in which Wriothesley became aware of how foolish he must look. “You look as bedraggled as the Chief Justice, though he’s somewhat better at hiding it than you.”

“He has more reason to hide it,” Wriothesley mumbled, still transfixed by the image of his name in Neuvillette’s precise, beautiful hand. He hadn’t put much thought into it when he chose his name all those years ago, but now he couldn’t  help but think that he had chosen it just so Neuvillette could write it on this specific letter. He didn’t even want to open it; just his name was enough; knowing that Neuvillette had been thinking about him was enough.

“How is this good exactly?” he asked, still not looking at Clorinde even as she took a seat across from him and placed her hat on his desk; clearly she intended to stay a while. 

“Because if you’re both miserable then we can fix this,” she said and Wriothesley finally looked at her, leaning back in his chair and placing the letter carefully in his lap. A part of him didn’t want Clorinde to see it, even as he was grateful she had been the one to deliver it. He didn’t even know what it said, but he knew some of it was work-related so his protectiveness of its contents made little sense, but Wriothesley had long since accepted that very little would make sense now that he didn’t have Neuvillette.

“There’s no fixing it,” he said, his tone purposefully unaffected. “We want different things and we can't get past it. The end.”

Clorinde looked at him for a long, silent moment and Wriothesley held her gaze, curious what his observant friend might find. 

“I’ve never seen you sad before,” she said at long last. “It’s disconcerting and I can’t help but wonder how badly you’ve had your heart broken this time for me to be able to see it.”

Wriothesley laughed because he couldn’t help it, but it was a dark, mournful sound that he wished he could take back. 

“Don’t feel too bad, I’ve done it to myself,” he said and Clorinde huffed a semblance of a laugh as well and said, “oh I don’t doubt it.”

She fell silent again, her gaze slipping far away, and Wriothesley was certain he knew where her mind had wandered. 

“Have you talked to her lately?” he asked, startling Clorinde from her reverie and the woman looked back at him with a sharp look that quickly softened. 

“No, I haven’t. I’ve been keeping an eye on her though. She’s been hanging around with a certain blond, infamous traveller lately; they’re looking into the serial disappearances.” 

Rumour had reached them even so far under the sea of the blond traveller and his floating companion and Wriothesley felt a chill of anticipation run through his blood with the knowledge that he was now in Fontaine. To be a student of history meant to understand the cycle of things and he knew that if the traveller was in Fontaine that could only mean that their cog in the continental machine had already begun to turn. The prophecy might very well already be upon them; especially with the Spina di Rosula lending her wind to its sails.

“I know I give you flak for it, but keep that eye on her. Whoever is behind those disappearances aren’t to be trifled with, and the Spina is certainly someone they would want disappeared.”

Wriothesley had never met Miss Navia, but her reputation preceded her, only made more impressive by Clorinde’s quiet devotion to her childhood friend colouring half the stories Wriothesley had heard about the woman. He found more than a smidge of amusement in the ways Clorinde went about keeping her connection to Miss Navia—all behind the woman’s back—but mostly he just felt compassion for his friend who was clearly in love with someone who wanted nothing to do with her. 

Clorinde only hummed before she rose and walked over to his tea station, pouring herself a cup from the heated pot and, without asking, poured another cup for him as well. He murmured his thanks when she sat it down in front of him, but his attention was once again grabbed by the swirling letters of his name written in dark blue ink on the cream-coloured envelope. The starkness of the deep colour so like the sea against something so soft seemed like a perfect likeness to Neuvillette himself who never hid either side of himself but rather left it up to the viewer to decide which part to focus on; the strength, or the compassion; the hard, or the soft. 

“Who do you think he is?” he asked Clorinde, his voice almost as soft as a whisper. They had never talked about Neuvillette before in such a way, but he didn’t doubt that she had made her own observations; come to her own conclusions. 

“I don’t know,” she said and took a long, slow sip of her tea while Wriothesley waited. He knew she had more to say than that. “Sometimes I suspect that he’s the actual archon, and Lady Furina is little more than a paid actress.”

Wriothesley had entertained the same thought multiple times and it seemed legitimate enough to him, but there was something about Neuvillette that felt supernatural, but not really divine. 

“But then I see Lady Furina on her own and I see how much she cares about the people of Fontaine and I feel bad for even thinking it.”

That was something Wriothesley had never considered; he had respect for their archon on account of her being their archon, but he had always been very aware that she did little to rule their nation and that the true power—at least outwardly—was in Neuvillette’s hands, though he would probably say otherwise. 

“He’s not human, that’s all I know,” Clorinde said with a tone of finality and Wriothesley let it go with a wry smile; he and Neuvillette were colleagues of a sort, but they were very much equals; Clorinde on the other hand was Neuvillette’s subordinate and it was obvious he had toed her limits enough when it came to her boss. 

“Sorry,” he murmured against the rim of his cup before he took a hearty sip, sighing contentedly as the heat of a perfectly brewed cup of tea spread through his chest.

They didn’t talk about Neuvillette for the rest of Clorinde’s visit, rather trading stories over a new pot of tea of encounters with the truly insufferable they had had to parse through in the time since they last saw each other, and by the time she left Wriothesley felt marginally lighter than he had before. 

The letter haunted him into the next day, sitting primly to the left of him on his desk, far enough away to not be a hindrance to his paperwork but close enough that he could see it in the corner of his eye at all times. He was, somehow, afraid to open it; afraid doing so would disrupt the serenity of Neuvillette’s careful penmanship. He was, also, slightly disturbed that he had given such power to a single written word of so little actual importance. It was just his name; Neuvillette had said his name on multiple occasions, in multiple different ways; there was nothing new about it. 

When the day moved on into the late afternoon and the night guard was surely preparing to begin their rounds, Wriothesley set aside his paperwork with purpose, breathed deeply once through his nose and pulled the letter from Neuvillette to rest in front of him on his desk. If all had been as it had and the last month had never happened, their meeting would already have been held and the contents of the envelope would have been discussed and either settled or put off until the next month and Wriothesley found he couldn’t put it off any longer. At least his sense of duty was still intact, even if little else was. 

He drew a letter opener from a drawer and carefully slit open the sealed envelope, tipping it upside down so the contents slipped from its grasp and then he put it to the side, weighing it down with the letter opener. The large form was exactly what he had expected and he gave it nothing more than a cursory glance after reading the words Finalised Budget and rather turned his attention to the small, folded slip of paper that followed it. He took a slow breath and unfolded it with two fingers, holding it open on top of the neatly organised financial report. 

Wriothesley , it read in a smaller script than on the envelope, but the effect it had on Wriothesley was not diminished for it. 

After due consideration I have come to the conclusion that to postpone our monthly meeting would be beneficial for the both of us. I will not deny that I find it difficult to think about you in any other context than the one we have explored over the last weeks and I would appreciate some time to find a sense of normalcy again. That being said, I do not want you to hesitate if you, for whatever reason, find yourself in need of my advice or opinion; we are colleagues first and foremost and I respect your position too much to let my personal feelings interfere with your ability to do your job efficiently. 

There was a break in the text where the paper had been folded and when Wriothesley read on he got a sense that he could feel Neuvillette’s hesitance in the stroke of his quill as the letter became more personal.

I hope you are doing well, Wriothesley. Your absence is already noted and my days are darker for it, but I understand that the hurdle we have found ourselves in front of may be insurmountable. Even so, I am always here if you should need me. My last words to you were true, and they will remain true likely for as long as I live.

Yours,

Neuvillette

For a long time, Wriothesley only breathed, hardly conscious at all as his mind swam through a pool of disjointed words either written in Neuvillette’s hand or spoken from Neuvillette’s lips over the many years they had known each other. 

Then he read the letter again. 

And again. 

And once more simply because he didn’t think he could do anything else. 

His mind was caught on the imagery of Neuvillette’s days being darker because he wasn’t in them; how it implied that he brought some modicum of light into Neuvillette’s life. Neuvillette who was bright, warm and open and filled with so much care and devotion Wriothesley wondered how it didn’t brim over. What light could Wriothesley possibly add to that?

Putting the letter down felt like tearing off a limb—a slow, burning pain that didn’t go away but morphed into an ache of absence when he finally dropped the paper on his desk. He was fucked; he knew he was fucked; Clorinde knew he was fucked; he was fucked in the worst way possible and he couldn’t see a way for him to get un-fucked except, well, getting fucked.

It was so much more than that though and Wriothesley had known that in every thought of Neuvillette that strifed his mind and with every memory of their time together that swam so easily to the surface despite his best attempts at drowning them. They were never about sex, but rather of how Neuvillette had looked without the mantle of Iudex quite literally resting on his shoulders; of how he talked about the Melusine with so much pride and love; he remembered every conversation they’d had, spanning years, because he always did. So much of his mind was taken up by Neuvillette that it would be distracting if he wasn’t so used to it. And it was made only worse by the knowledge that he could have it all if he wanted.

Neuvillette had laid himself bare at Wriothesley’s feet and offered him a life—had offered him a whole new world—but Wriothesley didn’t know how to accept it. It was a strange thing, both wanting and not wanting something at the same time. When he thought about the eggs—theirs and not just a creation of Neuvillette’s inhuman body—hatching, and when he thought about the helpless creatures that would come to life because of it, he felt warmth and excitement and horror and dread all in one, and he knew with certainty that it was not something he wanted. But when he thought of making a family with Neuvillette, he found himself wanting it with ardent need. The contradiction was mind-boggling. 

“Your Grace?” A high, childish voice shook him free of his thoughts and when Wriothesley looked up he realised that he had walked himself to the infirmary without a conscious thought to do so, or even the awareness of moving. He would have to take precautions to ensure it didn’t become a habit; if the wrong inmate caught him at the wrong time then he was as good as dead. 

“Sigewinne,” he said and turned on the spot to look for her tiny form in the dark infirmary. 

“Over here,” she giggled and he turned to look back at the stairs to find her in the middle of the opposite staircase from the one he had walked down. Behind her was another Melusine in a Garde uniform; Blathine if he remembered correctly. 

“What brings you here, Your Grace?” Sigewinne asked as she skipped down the last steps of the stairs. “Did you get in a fight?”

The familiar question brought a smile to his face; it was the same question Sigewinne had asked him every time he showed up in her infirmary unannounced since he was a child. 

“No, I just needed some air. Good afternoon Blathine.”

Blathine smiled and waved cheerfully at him and, unexpectedly, threw her short arms around his leg in a cheerful hug. 

“Good afternoon, Your Grace! It’s nice to see you again!” 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley placed a hand on top of Blathine’s hat, smiling as her pink rhinophores fluttered against his fingers. 

“It’s good to see you too, Blathine. It’s been a while,” he said as he met eyes with the cheerful Garde. The innocent joy in her face struck a chord in his heart and he didn’t protest when she pulled him along to a table off to the side where Sigewinne was putting out cups of tea. At least he hoped it was tea. 

“Yes it has. I have seen His Grace so much lately, but now you don’t go overground anymore,” Blathine said matter-of-factly with enough emphasis that one would think it had been months since he last left the fortress. He supposed his behaviour had changed drastically enough in the last couple months for the opera house Garde to take notice. 

“Well, who needs sun when you have damp metal and deep sea pressure.” He gave a wry laugh that made Blathine smile but earned him a pointed stare from Sigewinne that he promptly ignored. It was harder to ignore the thump of a tin cup being placed in front of him, filled with a dark purple liquid that was decidedly not tea.

“Drink up, Your Grace!” Sigewinne said in a cheery sing-song and, purely to avoid any future lectures, he accepted the cup and raised it to his lips for the tiniest of sips. 

“Blathine, make sure to drink it all. I put extra pickled seaweed in yours, it should help with the palpitations.” Sigewinne patted Blathine on the arm and moved the other Melusine’s hands to wrap around her cup, watching her closely as Blathine drank it all in one long gulp. Wriothesley frowned and turned sideways in his seat to look more closely at the Melusine, searching her face for any sign of illness.

“Palpitations? Is everything alright Blathine?”

Blathine put her cup down with a tired sigh once she was done and then shook her head so hard her hat dropped into her lap and rolled onto the floor, but when she looked up at Wriothesley there was a smile on her face as wide and cheerful as ever.

“It’s nothing, Your Grace! Simply a hard day of work!”

Wriothesley leaned down to pick up her hat and placed it carefully back onto her head before letting his hand fall to the top of her back, stroking the narrow expanse once before letting his palm rest there. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she had said it was a hard day and not a long one; most likely, something had happened. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked lightly. 

Blathine seemed to shrink under his hand, but she didn’t pull away so Wriothesley kept his hand where it was, offering a small comfort to the usually light-hearted Melusine. It was easy to forget sometimes because they had integrated so well into human society and took their work seriously, but most Melusine were innocent as children at heart and right then all Wriothesley wanted to do was to bring Blathine into his embrace and soothe whatever hurt had befallen her. 

“There was a group of tourists at the Opera Epiclese today,” Sigewinne prompted gently and Blathine hummed in confirmation and added; “scholars from Sumeru, they were interested in the architecture.”

Kshahrewar students; for a moment he was sorry he missed them, but looking at Blathine’s face he was sure he hadn’t missed much. 

“I had to remind them several times that while they are welcome to study the building, it is still a public place and so they should respect that there are other people there, but they didn’t take me seriously.” 

When Blathine stopped for a breath, Wriothesley offered her his own cup of purple mystery and she accepted it at once, drinking that one more slowly. Sigewinne made a sound that from anyone else probably would have been a growl, but both Wriothesley and Blathine ignored her while the Melusine drank and Wriothesley fumed silently. He already knew where this was going.

“After I had told them six times to be mindful of their surroundings, one of them, a man with lots of hair in his face, told me to go play Garde somewhere else.”

The room was quiet with none of them talking, only the faint sound of boots on metal floors somewhere in the distance; Wriothesley could tell from the way they echoed that they did not come from the hallway leading to the infirmary. Had Neuvillette been there, he might have said something along the lines of “a person cannot be faulted for ignorance so long as they learn when the opportunity is presented to them”. Or perhaps not; the Iudex had different rules for humans and Melusine, that much was obvious. He might very well have tracked down these tourists and given them a crash course on Fontaine’s history, Melusine and proper etiquette. Wriothesley was not so eloquent.

“Their thickheadedness is not a reflection of you, I hope you know that Blathine. And if not, I hope that you listen to me now as much as you listened to that so-called scholar because it sounds to me like he lacks a very fundamental type of intelligence; maybe Vahumana would have been a better choice of school for him.” Blathine was laughing by the end and leaning into him so she would have fallen if Wriothesley had been sitting any farther away. 

“He always used a lot of long fancy words but you’re right, I don’t think he was very intelligent at all. He had to repeat himself all the time,” she giggled and Wriothesley laughed as well, happy to see her genuinely smiling again. 

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said once her giggles calmed and Wriothesley smiled and opened his arms in wordless acquiescence to the request he read in her round eyes. Blathine fell into his arms and laid there for a long moment before righting herself with another giggle; he already knew there’d be a sticker on the back of his coat, probably even a handful of them. He gave her a look, pretended to care, and Blathine giggled even more. 

“I should get back to work,” he said, dragging the words out. He didn’t really want to leave, but duty called. 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said and got to his feet, nodding a goodbye to both of them before he turned to leave the infirmary. He had taken one step into the hallway when Sigewinne calling out to him halted him in his tracks and he turned to see her hopping up the stairs, waving a hand at him.

“Wait Your Grace!” she called and Wriothesley did, folding his arms over his chest and looking down at her with an eyebrow raised.

“What is it, Sigewinne?”

She took a breath when she reached him and looked back down at Blathine, as if to ensure she was not paying them any attention. 

“I wanted to thank you, Your Grace. You are always so kind to us Melusine and I wanted you to know that you do a very good job.”

Wriothesley waited for her to say more, but she only smiled and twirled back around and disappeared down the stairs to her infirmary again. 

“I do a very good job at what?” he said, more to himself than anyone else and with a shake of his head, he turned on his heel and went back to his office. Sometimes there was no understanding that nurse.

It was almost three weeks later that he heard from Neuvillette again. It was a short note, a single sentence asking him to accommodate a boy named Aether and his flying companion. Apparently the Iudex had made himself an ally, but why he was sending the boy to Meropide, to Wriothesley’s domain, when he could have asked for anything and Wriothesley would have turned himself inside out to satisfy his need, was a mystery. But he would follow Neuvillette’s lead; if this infamous blond traveller were already ensnared in Fontaine’s fate then it was best to prepare for the endtimes.

Chapter Text

“So what are you going to do with the Wingalet now that it’s been surfaced? Are you gonna sell it?! Oooooo, think of all the mora you could make!”

That was Paimon, of course. The winged child that wasn’t actually a child but sure behaved like one most of the time. Wriothesley couldn’t help but laugh; her obsession with mora was as endearing as ever.

“Nah, it’s not mine to sell,” he replied and leaned back into his seat as Paimon flew right up against him and poked him in the chest before whizzing off to charm more food out of Arouet, the proprietor of Café Lutece. Wriothesley didn’t doubt that she would be successful.

“Sorry about Paimon, she can be a bit much sometimes,” Aether said with a wry smile on his face that juxtaposed the fondness in his voice. 

“No worries, children are allowed to be a bit much sometimes. Though I’m not sure if she qualifies for one or not…” She was a unique creature, that was for sure, and it didn’t really matter to Wriothesley if her age was that of a child or something else; her naivety and fragile heart required the same amount of care. “She’s enjoyable anyway.”

He looked around at the quiet street strangely devoid of people for the late afternoon hour. The last time he had been here he was picking up dinner for him and Neuvillette and the small restaurant had been bustling and people had roamed the street with the same restlessness as a school of herring. Now, it was quiet, not empty, but docile as if the city was asleep. It wasn’t a bad analogy; as the celebration of their survival had settled, a mournful calm had fallen over the people; thankfully the number of casualties was low, but they perhaps were felt all the stronger for it.

“What are you going to do now?” Aether chimed up beside him as Paimon came zooming back to their table with a large milkshake held in both hands.

“Wait for the fortress to be emptied of water then it’s back to work as usual,” Wriothesley replied and took a sip of his tea, looking at Aether from the corner of his eye. The boy had a way of asking harmless questions with dangerous undertones and Wriothesley doubted he was talking about Meropide. No, he was asking about Wriothesley personally and that was not something Wriothesley was comfortable talking about. While Aether hadn’t asked anything about his and Neuvillette’s relationship, he had been present for a small, somewhat awkward exchange in his office almost a month ago. Questions were inevitable. 

His attention was caught by Paimon wailing something incomprehensible as the whipped cream on her milkshake had melted in the warm air and dripped over her fingers, causing a sticky mess of both her and the glass. Wriothesley took one of the cloth napkins folded into decorative figures from the middle of the table and used his vision to summon a thin layer of ice to cover it that quickly melted into the fabric and dampened it.

“Give me your hands,” he said and held out a hand to Paimon who stuck her tiny hands in front of her, wiggling in the air, still wailing. He gently wiped her hands clean then ran the cloth over her glass to mop up the rivers of melted cream running down the sides. As a finishing touch, he sent a soft burst of ice to cover the glass to keep the milkshake cool.

“There, that’s better,” he said softly, smiling at Paimon as the little fairy vibrated in place for a moment before whizzing forward to hug him around his neck before returning to her seat, her cheeks holding an embarrassed flush as she quietly enjoyed her milkshake. Wriothesley couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face even if he tried.

“You’re good with her,” Aether broke the silence, unbothered by talking about Paimon like she couldn’t hear; she didn’t seem to be paying much attention anyway, caught up in the euphoria of her apparently heavenly milkshake. 

“Good with her how?” He smiled wryly and brought his cup of tea into his hands, delighting for a moment in the chime of delicate porcelain as the cup shifted against the saucer before he slid his fingers into the dainty handle and brought the cup to his lips. There was something especially exquisite about a cup of tea brewed for him by someone else, and Café Lutece held a collection of truly fragrant—not to mention fresh—tea mixtures that was unlike anything in his own collection. 

“I get the feeling you don’t want me to elaborate on that,” Aether laughed, a barely humorous scoff, and Wriothesley turned an arched brow at him.

“Mm, and where do you get that feeling from?” he asked and sipped again on his tea. The earthy taste was not Fontainean, but maybe Liyuen? 

“No cup of tea is that interesting, not even for you,” Aether declared and pointed a finger at Wriothesley. 

“Then I’m afraid you don’t know me very well, Traveller. Tea is what makes life worth living,” Wriothesley said and Paimon giggled around the words “tea is life,” and though Wriothesley knew she was teasing him, he leaned forward in his seat and looked into her sparkling eyes as he declared in agreement, “tea is life.”

Calm quiet reigned as they all finished their drinks without more conversation, and Aether was the first to rise from his seat. As he gathered his things and prepared to leave, Wriothesley watched Paimon as she hovered beside the table looking from him to Aether and back.

“Are we leaving?” she asked, a visible pout on her face and Wriothesley had to look away as a strange pressure settled in his chest. He didn’t understand what it was he was feeling about this magical child he had only briefly gotten to know; he recognised his protective streak rearing its head; she was a defenseless innocent, it was only natural, but her dependency and childlike fear and curiosity had triggered an instinct of care in him that he was unfamiliar with. 

“I was going to check up on Furina and since the Duke came all this way to see you, I figured he could watch you for a while,” Aether said to Paimon with only a short, amused glance at Wriothesley.

“Busted,” Wriothesley muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Aether to hear. He had come to see Paimon specifically, but he hadn’t thought he had been that obvious about it. 

“Yay! Let’s go shopping!” Paimon flew to his side and dug her tiny hands into his furry mantle and began to pull. He barely felt it, but let himself be pulled from his chair either way.

“No, no shopping,” Aether said even as he dropped a small coin pouch on the table. “For food,” he clarified before leaving with a half-hearted wave. Wriothesley waited until he was out of hearing range before picking up the pouch and turning to give Paimon a conspiratorial look.

“Let’s go shopping.”

Shopping, in Wriothesley’s world, meant bookstores and so that was their first stop. Hubel’s shop had opened again only that morning after a boatload of books had arrived from Mondstadt and Liyue—subsidised by the state of Fontaine as reparation for goods damaged in the flood—and Wriothesley had been looking forward to checking it out. Paimon whizzed straight to the crime novellas, pulling a set of mustache and glasses as well as an old-fashioned tobacco pipe from the pocket of subspace she sometimes inhabited. Wriothesley watched her as she took on the mien of someone on a very important mission, then he left her to it and turned to the non-fiction shelf with a fond smile, forgoing making a comment on her peculiar form of entertainment. He did wonder though if she had a parasol and a pair of dainty gloves prepared as well for perusing the regency romance section. 

Feet planted in front of his most frequented shelf, Wriothesley let his eyes roam the spines of the books in front of him, not looking for anything in particular, until his attention was caught by a sparkling, blue spine with lettering in embossed silver that flowed like waves. He pulled it from the shelf, careful not to disturb the harmony of the tightly packed books, and turned it gently in his palms. He stroked a hand over the cover, feeling the outline of the embossed title against his skin; Ode to Ocean’s Depth. The title and the embellished dust jacket was reminiscent of a book of poems, but when he cracked it open he saw it was in fact a textbook on lifeforms found in the ocean. The elegant design and the author’s obvious love for the sea made Wriothesley think of Neuvillette and a weight landed on his chest making it hard to breath. He hadn’t seen Neuvillette since their brief meeting in his office after the debacle with the “Beret Society”, a meeting that was particularly painful as Wriothesley had been burning with questions following his revelation of who Neuvillette actually was but had been halted from asking any of them by Aether’s presence. With everything that had happened since, Neuvillette had been constantly busy and Wriothesley had been decidedly not and while he wanted nothing more than to talk to the man, something always got in the way. 

“That book looks like Neuvillette!” Paimon exclaimed into his ear and he startled, fingers gripping the book tightly so as not to fumble it. 

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he said and stroked a hand over the cover again to smooth it down before he tucked the book under his arm and moved on. 

“Is that why you’re buying it?” Paimon asked gleefully, flitting around him and peering into his face through the empty frames of her prop glasses. Wriothesley wanted to shush her as the other patron of the store turned to look at them over her shoulder—Wriothesley noted with amusement that she was perusing the romance section with a yellow parasol hanging from one dainty wrist—but he only flashed her a smile and tried to ignore her. Overwolders were still Neuvillette’s problem, but he felt a creeping sensation of discomfort as the woman studied him for a moment more before her eyes widened and she quickly looked away. She either recognised him for who he was or, more likely, she superimposed his image into the rumors of Neuvillette’s paramore that had been floating around since the first time Wriothesley visited his apartment, and came to the conclusion he must be it. She blushed wildly and turned away, but could only maintain the ruse of perusing for a moment more before she fled the store. Paimon, well in character, was oblivious to the whole thing. 

“Paimon has selected the books she would like to buy. They’re over there on the counter,” she said and giggled, rubbing her hands together in delight. 

“Alright, let me look a bit more before we pay,” he said, smiling to himself as Paimon held onto his shoulder and rested there while he continued to browse. 

There weren’t a whole lot of new books, mostly it seemed Hubel had replaced the books he lost in the flood, but there were some from Liyue he had never come across before and his stack of books grew quickly. 

“You read a lot ,” Paimon remarked when he added a slim booklet on existential philosophy to his stack. “Paimon’s brain feels like it’s gonna explode just looking at that! Can we leave now?!” She groaned and kicked her feet into his back and Wriothesley had to smother a wince as she hit right where he had knocked his back when the Wingalet surfaced. He had thought the pain was gone, but apparently child sized feet were its own menace. Or he was getting old.

“Alright, alright we’re leaving. Let me just-” He trailed off as he turned to see the veritable tower of books, all crime novels, balanced on the counter with Hubel grinning delightedly at him from behind it. He stared for a lengthy moment, mute, as he mentally counted the mora in his pouch and quickly realised he hadn’t brought enough. But before he could put the books he’d picked back on the shelf, Hubel waved him onward, his smile even wider.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace, we can work it out if you don’t have enough right now. I know you’re good for the money,” Hubel said, somehow reading Wriothestley’s mind. Wriothesley sighed and gave a sidelong look at Paimon, reaching behind his back with his free hand to tickle her feet when she only giggled. 

“I’ll get you the rest before the day’s through,” he said and tossed his coin pouch on the counter.

They were standing in the shade of the awning outside the aquabus station on level three, taking a respite from the hot sun and eating waffles when Neuvillette found them. With a bag of books dangling from one arm and Paimon cradled in the crook of his other arm, Wriothesley had a sudden realisation of what they must look like, and as Neuvillette came to a stop in front of them he felt both a strange warmth in his chest and an acute sense of guilt. 

“Wriothesley, Paimon. This is unexpected,” Neuvillette said, a serene smile on his face that Wriothesley easily saw through. There was a familiar pain hidden behind it.

“It’s not unexpected that you’re here , right next to your office,” Paimon said, fluttering her wings so that she lifted slightly out of Wriothesley’s hold. As childish as she seemed most of the time, she had a knack for subverting that expectation at the worst times. Sure, he had walked them there because the street led straight to the Palais Mermonia and Neuvillette would walk down it if he ever left the building, but he hadn’t counted on Paimon picking up on that. 

“Where are you off to, Monsieur?” Wriothesley asked and froze. It was thoughtlessness bordering on cruel and Wriothesley made it no better when he bit his lip and dropped his gaze to Neuvillette’s chest. He wanted to take it back, but that would be weird; and he couldn’t apologise because anyone listening—and he knew they were—would wonder at what he was apologising for. But when he met Neuvillette’s eyes they were burning.

“As it happens, I am on my way to the Fortress of Meropide. I thought I might make an attempt at emptying it of flood water,” Neuvillette said as if, when it came to him, make an attempt at didn’t mean get it done . 

“Can I come with you?” Wriothesley asked, embarrassed at how meek he sounded but Neuvillette smiled gently, genuinely, and said, “of course,” in that soft tone Wriothesley had missed more than anything. He had almost forgotten about Paimon when she spoke up around a mouthful of waffle that she was still shoving into her mouth while she spoke. “Paimon will go find Aether.”

She floated out of his arms and grinned widely once she had swallowed all the waffle, scrunching herself into a fluttery ball as she giggled before she flew up to him and cupped a hand around her mouth, whispering not at all quietly: “show him the shiny book you bought.” Then she was off, popping into her dimension to quickly travel to her companions’s side. 

“Shall we?” Neuvillette asked and gestured to the doors of the aquabus station with one hand, the other held behind his back. Wriothesley smiled, suppressed the urge to take Neuvillette’s hand in his, and began to walk.

“How are you, Wriothesley?” Neuvillette asked and Wriothesley looked over at him as they fell into step beside each other. Neuvillette walked with his hands behind his back and his head slightly tilted to the ground, his eyes averted. But when he glanced up at Wriothesley there was naked interest in his eyes and enough warmth to melt Wriothesley’s cryo vision. 

“I’m fine. It’s a bit of an adjustment not having the Fortress to look after, but at the same time I’m enjoying this unplanned vacation.” The exiles were being kept in various locations around Fontaine while the Fortress was incapacitated and the Maison Gardiennage had taken over the security detail, leaving him with very little to do in terms of his job. There was no Warden without a Fortress after all, and despite his status and title, Wriothesley didn’t have much of a leg to stand on when it came to professional credentials, considering he conned his way into his current position. When the Gardiennage had seized control of his prisoners, he hadn’t protested a bit. 

“I apologise about that, but procedure must be upheld now more than ever,” Neuvillette said, a frown creasing his brow that Wriothesley interpreted as him having difficulties aligning the guilt he felt at robbing Wriothesley of his job with his belief that following the rules in this case was the right thing to do. 

“It’s alright,” Wriothesley said as he held the door to the station open for Neuvillette to walk through. “Different world, different rules. I get it. And I genuinely don’t mind.”

The aquabus was at the station when they reached the Navia Line and they climbed aboard and took their seats close to the front where Elphane greeted him politely and greeted Neuvillette enthusiastically. 

“What is this book Paimon mentioned?” Neuvillette asked after exchanging pleasantries with the Melusine and Wriothesley snorted a laugh as he was reminded of the fairy’s lack of subtlety. He dug through his shopping bag and pulled out said book, stroking a hand over the cover before he presented it to Neuvillette. 

“It,” he began before he let out a heavy sigh and lowered his voice, “it reminded me of you.”

Neuvillette held the book between his hands like it was something precious and didn’t look at Wriothesley. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Wriothesley said and his fingers tightened on the handle of the paper bag he carried. They had drawn a line in the sand when they decided to end their budding relationship and he just toed it. 

“It’s quite alright,” Neuvillette said but didn’t lift his eyes from the book he held in his lap. He stared at the cover for a long while before he opened it to a random page and started slowly flipping through it. 

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” he said after a while. 

“Why?” Wriothesley asked and Neuvillette finally looked at him. Wriothesley held his gaze as he spoke. “Your identity is your own and whoever you choose to share it with is your own prerogative. We can talk about it if you want, and I would like to, but I don’t need an explanation .”

Neuvillette held his gaze for a long time without speaking and then he closed the book and handed it back to Wriothesley, still without saying a word but with a small smile curving the corners of his lips. 

“We can talk about it,” he said at last, eyes on the horizon and hands folded primly in his lap, and Wriothesley hummed and slumped ungainly in his seat smiling at nothing. 

The fortress was flooded to the point that water kissed the open gateway behind the Opera Epiclese, creating a mirror that spilled at the slightest disturbance. Wriothesley had been there once since the flood, had judged it a lost cause and hadn’t returned since. It would take at least ten industrial grade pumps to drain it, or one determined Sovereign Dragon. Neuvillette didn’t hesitate before stepping onto the drowned staircase and Wriothesley watched, stunned silent, as the water moved out of his way. It spilled over the sides and back into the lake, picking up speed as Neuvillette moved down the stairs. Wriothesley hurried after him and quickly the water parted around them, encasing them in a bubble of rushing water. 

“I assume you know who I really am,” Neuvillette said when they reached the bottom of the staircase and started on the aquabus tunnel. He had yet to even raise a hand, but the water kept surging upwards as the tunnel emptied ahead of them, leaving only enough water to fill the aquabus lane. Neuvillette had always had remarkable control, but this was impressive. 

“You’re a Sovereign Dragon, I’m guessing of water,” Wriothesley said, flashing a smile when Neuvillette looked at him over his shoulder. 

“Yes, that is what I have become. As for why I have this form, I am still not completely certain of.”

“You haven’t always been a Sovereign then? I assume the dragon part isn’t as recent.” Wriothesley stuck a hand out and touched the wall of water beside him, feeling the constant motion as it slipped over his fingers before, in the space of a single breath, it all came to a halt. The water turned still as an untouched lake around them and Wriothesley saw in its reflection Neuvillette turning to look at him fully. He spoke before Wriothesley could acknowledge him. 

“You are angry with me.”

It was not a question; Neuvillette said it with certainty as if he had looked right into Wriothesley’s mind and picked it apart. He was angry, at least a little. It was nothing but a burning ember at this point, but still it refused to go out. 

“A little,” he said vaguely and let his hand fall as he turned to face Neuvillette. “How’d you know?”

There was a frown creasing Neuvillette’s forehead and when Wriothesley met his eyes he was surprised at the look of absolute loss that greeted him. 

“It’s not about your identity,” he said, carefully, giving a small smile in the hopes that Neuvillette would get that it really wasn’t that serious. Some of the tension disappeared from Neuvillette’s face, but the frown remained; twisting his face into something unfamiliar. 

“Excuse my presumptiveness, but what else could it be?” he said and Wriothesley had to choke back an unexpected laugh. He’d had an inkling Neuvillette hadn’t seen anything wrong with what he did; why would he when Wriothesley had gone along with it from the beginning. He raised a hand to his mouth both to muffle any further inappropriate sounds and to distract himself from the inappropriate urge to smooth his thumb over the furrow in Neuvillette’s forehead. 

“Do you know you could ask anything of me and I would give it to you?” he said instead of offering an explanation and smiled behind his hand as the furrow in Neuvillette’s face deepened. 

“That is objectively untrue,” he said and another laugh forced its way past Wriothesley’s lips. It was highly inappropriate considering what Neuvillette must have meant by it, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m talking about the Traveller,” Wriothesley said through his laughter. 

In a matter of seconds the frown melted from Neuvillette’s face and was replaced by an unfamiliar darkness that sent Wriothesley’s heart racing. That Neuvillette cared for him had been made obvious, but to know that he could feel such a possessiveness over him was almost enough to make Wriothesley turn on his own convictions. Amusing as it was, Wriothesley hurried to clarify before Neuvillette could dig himself further into the line of thought Wriothesley had accidentally pushed him onto.

“You sent him to infiltrate the fortress when you could have just asked for my help. I knew everything that went on down here, he was unnecessary.”

The dark, viscerally carnal possessiveness slid off Neuvillette’s shoulders and from his face, brightening his visage to something soft and sheepish.

“My apologies,” he said, whether in response to Wriothesley’s words or his own reaction was hard to say, and Wriothesley smiled wryly. He stretched his fingers out behind his back until they touched the cool surface of the water, watching Neuvillette closely as he tested his theory. As soon as his fingers soaked in the water, Neuvillette smiled; “I can sense your intentions as well as your feelings.”

He said it in the same way he would tell Wriothesley he was doing good; that gently superior way that left Wriothesley wanting more and that made him want to offer himself up for the claim. A sharp burst of desire hit him like a fist to the gut and seeped into every crevice of his body and without meaning to he moved closer to Neuvillette; reached out for him and grasped his hand; pulled himself against the other man when Neuvillette remained as still as a great oak tree. Warm breath hit his face before their mouths met in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette murmured as they parted, but it was not a reprimand, it couldn’t be, not with how he laid a hand over Wriothesley’s cheek and held him there.

“I’m sorry,” Wriothesley whispered, but Neuvillette only kissed him again—pulled him close with an arm around his waist and claimed his mouth with a fierce intensity that was still, somehow, gentle. 

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette said again as he kissed at Wriothesley’s jaw, dragging his mouth over it until he could dip his tongue into the soft pocket right below his ear and Wriothesley knew instinctively that Neuvillette was scenting him. “Wriothesley.”

He knew now why his name on that letter had had such an effect on him; his name was no longer his own and to have Neuvillette speak it in such a way made it into something bigger than him, something untouchable. They shouldn’t be doing this; this was why they had kept their distance to begin with, because not falling for the temptation would be impossible and the outcome could be devastating.

“We shouldn’t-” he cut himself off because he didn’t want to say it—he didn’t want to stop—but Neuvillette heard him and he backed away as if he’d been burned, folding his hands behind his back and breathing deeply through his mouth. 

“I don’t want to stop,” Wriothesley said, because he had to. “But nothing’s changed so we probably shouldn’t. But I want you and I don’t want you to stop.”

He knew nothing more would happen—neither of them would allow it at this point—but he needed Neuvillette to know how much he wanted him; that nothing Neuvillette could do would be unwanted, simply unwise. 

“Thank you,” Neuvillette whispered and Wriothesley smiled as his heart broke a little more, but not for himself.

“I sent Aether as I did not want to imposition you. It was not my intention to go around you in any way,” Neuvillette said after he resumed draining the water. They moved steadily deeper into the Fortress, but Neuvillette didn’t seem to tire even when they reached the elevator down to the fortress administration, where he stopped and raised a hand, the first physical indication that he was even the one doing this. The movement of the water changed as Neuvillette pulled flood water from countless nooks and crannies and other small spaces in between the elevators, draining the mechanisms without damaging them. The water danced chaotically around them before converging in one large river moving towards the entrance. 

“You’re not flooding the Opera now, are you?” Wriothesley asked, grinning at him when Neuvillette gave him a look over his shoulder and said, “I am in full control of every drop of water both inside and outside of this fortress.”

That statement would have been terrifying coming from anyone but Neuvillette, but Wriothesley felt only a sense of awe at the extent of his power. 

“Are you aware of it in a sense? Like it’s a part of you or something?” he asked and Neuvillette turned to him with a contemplative mien. 

“I believe we are the same and I am as aware of the water around me as I am of my own hand. I could feel your emotions through the water just as well as I could feel your hand upon my cheek.” He raised a hand to cup Wriothesley’s cheek and Wriothesley leaned into it, closing his eyes without meaning to. 

“This is still new to me. I am still familiarising myself with my new existence, with who I am now.”

Silence fell between them as Neuvillette rested their foreheads together, and for a long time all they did was breathe. 

“I am truly sorry for subverting you Wriothesley. I admit that our current circumstance may have had something to do with my decision and it is in your right to be angry at me.” Neuvillette leaned back just a little and Wriothesley met his eyes. “I swore I wouldn’t let our relationship affect our work yet that is what I did. I made you a promise and then I broke it and for that I am sorry.” 

Wriothesley held Neuvillette’s gaze for a long moment; trying to pull himself away; thinking how he didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as this man. Neuvillette was perfect, utterly perfect. And even if Wriothesley’s touch could do nothing but sully him, it was still wanted. Neuvillette wanted him. He tried again to pull away but it was like they had been magnetized and Neuvillette’s closeness could never repel him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the still air between them. 

“What for?” Neuvillette whispered back, and Wriothesley let his eyes slip closed when Neuvillette tangled their fingers, slid their palms together. 

“For not having the strength to pull away; for hurting you.” 

Neuvillette exhaled a soft laugh against Wriothesley’s lips and tightened his hold on Wriothesley’s hands. 

“You’re not hurting me,” he whispered and tilted his head just slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to Wriothesley’s mouth. 

“It will hurt, when we leave this place, when we go our separate ways, it will hurt.” In a move of utter indulgence, Neuvillette wrapped his arms around Wriothesley and buried his face in his neck, holding him so closely they might as well become one. Unable to help himself, Wriothesley embraced Neuvillette in turn, tilting his head to press his mouth into Neuvillette’s hair while he clung to him like he never intended to let go. Neuvillette hummed contently; “that is true. It hurts now and it will hurt later, but Wriothesley you’re not hurting me. 

I had an enlightening conversation with Miss Navia shortly after we ended our intimate relationship and I came to realise that some things I had simply pretended to understand because I believed that to do otherwise would be discourteous. And while I, at the time, did not understand exactly where you were coming from, I have had a long time to think and I believe I know now. Fatherhood means something different to you than it does to me and-.” Neuvillette tightened his hold when Wriothesley began to squirm, wanting to pull away. “We will not talk about it,” Neuvillette insisted and Wriothesley stilled, but held himself stiffly as Neuvillette continued in a soft voice; “I know why it would scare you.”

Neuvillette pulled back. He didn’t release Wriothesley from his embrace, but moved his hands to his sides and stretched his thumbs out to caress the breadth of his stomach. There was a glazed quality to Neuvillette’s eyes when he did this that had Wriothesley convinced it wasn’t an entirely conscious action.

“I do not say this to push, but I believe you would be a wonderful father, Wriothesley.”

With a last kiss, Neuvillette moved on, not expecting an answer. Wriothesley followed behind him when he continued to drain the water, but he was silent, numbed by Neuvillette’s words and the memories they pulled to the surface. It was true; his own past played a large role in his feelings about family and fatherhood. The actions of his adoptive parents had disillusioned him to the concept of family, ensuring that he would always look for deceit in a happy picture. But Neuvillette was right; in the end it was just fear and fears could be overcome. 

Chapter Text

Everything went more or less back to normal after that. The exiles returned to the fortress, all seeming happy to be back even though most of their meager belongings had been ruined or displaced by the water, and Wriothesley took up the role of Warden once more. A strange peace fell over the fortress, the same kind of morose, contemplative silence that had haunted the Court of Fontaine, the caverns of Poisson and everywhere in between. It was the perplexity of having survived something that should be unsurvivable and Wriothesley felt it as much as the next person. But to him it was not an unfamiliar feeling. He had survived being trafficked; he had survived homelessness and the harshness of living in the world without any protection; he had survived the Fortress when the place was worse than a nightmare with no rules. Death had never scared him rather it was the living that was frightening. It was the reason he had chosen to stay in the fortress when given the choice to leave. Down in the deep he could pull on the role of Warden like pulling on a cloak; he could be some thing rather than some one and be comfortable with that. He lived his life in books and journeyed the world with every cup of tea he drank and it was enough. It had been enough, until now. 

Neuvillette had opened a door to him, one that had been sealed away behind bolted metal, and without asking for a single thing had made Wriothesley want to give him everything. And to do that he had to step into the light and be a person , be Wriothesley the way he should have been, and that was terrifying. He was not so thick-headed he couldn’t admit his fears, but he didn’t know if he was thick-skinned enough to face them. 

“So what’s the emergency?” Clorinde dropped from the grassy knoll onto the sand next to him and sat down. He had been waiting for her for awhile, but she was busy helping with the restoration of Poisson so he didn’t mind her tardiness. On the contrary, he was happy she was spending time with Miss Navia, their renewed closeness was well deserved in his opinion. 

He didn’t answer her for a long time, but where others might have pressed, Clorinde sat quietly watching the sea and simply waited for him. He hadn’t known exactly what he wanted to ask her when he had reached out, he only knew he needed to talk to a friend and someone who might understand. Clorinde, he knew, had a lot of the same thoughts as he did. 

“Do you think I’m a good person?” he said at long last, looking out over the tranquil water. He wondered if Neuvillette could sense his presence; wondered if he would come if he stuck his feet in the water and called out to him. He could feel Clorinde’s eyes on him, but didn’t turn to look. Heard her sigh and smiled briefly in wry amusement. 

“I think goodness is subjective and so my answer will be different from someone else’s. But yes, I think you’re a good person, or I think you try to be and that’s really the best any of us can do.”

He mulled on that for a long while as Clorinde stayed by his side, clearly sensing that something was wrong. Wriothesley didn’t really know what he had hoped to get out of this meeting, maybe he had simply wanted to see her, but he knew he had to talk about this with someone else. And not just in hypotheticals either; he needed someone else to know what was going on, why it hadn’t worked out with Neuvillette, and what Wriothesley was so damn afraid of. And for that he only had Clorinde. 

“I need to talk to you about Neuvillette so I really hope you can put aside him being your boss right now and pretend he’s just someone I may be in love with.” He turned to face Clorinde and pulled his legs up and crossed them over each other, plucking his coat from his shoulders and folding it into his lap. Not because he was warm, but so he would have something to occupy his hands. Clorinde mirrored him and plucked a smooth stone from the sand that she passed from one hand to the other as she looked at him with quiet conviction. 

“I can do that,” she said and Wriothesley smiled briefly and took a deep breath; now he only needed to find the right place to start. 

“When I told you it couldn’t work with me and Neuvillette because we wanted different things, what that meant is that there are certain aspects of Neuvillette’s nature that I couldn’t reconcile with. You know he’s not human and while he tries and for the most part does a very good job of understanding and assimilating human nature, there are aspects of him that just can’t be changed and that shouldn’t be changed. Which means I’m the one who has to change and … “ A gust of air escaped his mouth as he leaned back on his hands, digging his fingers into the soft sand. He looked up at Clorinde and shook his head while exhaling a harsh laugh, utterly fed up with himself. “And I think I want to so I don’t understand why it’s so fucking hard.” Clorinde studied him closely. 

“Well, what is this thing that can’t be changed that’s making this so hard for you? Does he have … weird … anatomy, or something?” He could tell from her halting speech that Clorinde was struggling. 

“No, well yes. It’s different. But it’s good, it’s all good, the physical is all good. It’s not … that’s not.” He stopped. This was harder than he had expected. 

“Before we fucked, he had never considered sex as something casual. I mean as something people did just for the pleasure of having sex. 

He enjoyed it, I know that for certain, but for him sex will always bring with it a certain set of instincts to … well to procreate, and therein lies the issue.”

Clorinde was nodding when he finished, a sympathetic look on her face. 

“His animal instinct is telling him to put babies in you and doesn’t understand that that’s not going to work,” she concluded and Wriothesley desperately wanted to let that be it, to just agree and move on and pretend like the issue was with Neuvillette so he wouldn’t  have to get into his own issues, lifelong as they are. But that would be the coward’s way out and he had already come this far. He owed it to all of them to follow through. 

“Not exactly,” he said haltingly, struggling for words. “Do you remember, it was years ago, you bought me a stack of Inazuman light novels for my birthday? The edgy, erotic ones? Turns out they weren’t so fantastical after all.” 

He could tell by the look on Clorinde’s face that he had lost her, but he found he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t say outright that Neuvillette was magical enough to knock him up, or that he would go about doing it in a decidedly inhuman fashion. 

“Yeah I didn’t read any of them, too many men.” Clorinde raised both eyebrows and smirked at him in amusement. He huffed a laugh and threw a handful of sand at her which she paid him back for with twice as much sand. They were both dusting sand off their clothes when he spoke again, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. 

“To put it as plainly as I can, Neuvillette is as much lizard as he’s human and yes he can.” He turned to look out over the sea, digging his fingers into the sand and pulling up handfuls of the powdery stuff again and again as the silence stretched between them. He didn’t dare look at Clorinde, worried he would find judgement or something even worse instead of the simple confusion he was hoping for. He hadn’t been very clear, but it had been as clear as he could manage and all he could do now was hope that Clorinde could fill in the rest on her own. 

It was several minutes later when Clorinde finally spoke. 

“So if I got this right, it’s yes he can meaning he can procreate with you despite you both being men?” She had moved to stretch out on the sand so they were sitting side by side looking out at the sea. Wriothesley glanced at her from the corner of his eye and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing a look of contemplation on her face, and nothing else. 

“Assuming the lizard thing isn’t just a throwaway comment due to Neuvillette’s draconic identity, he doesn’t make human babies, does he? I know vishaps lay eggs, is that it?” He nodded. 

“So you can make babies together which is not something you want? Which is a problem for Neuvillette. Do I have that right?” He nodded again and Clorinde exhaled a heavy breath. 

“Well that’s an issue. But you said you want to change. Are you saying you want to make a family with him after all?”

Yes he was, that was exactly what he wanted, but … “I don’t think I want kids though.”

A zap of lightning sped across the surface of the water as Clorinde let out a sharp and surprisingly loud laugh. 

“Of course not,” she said and shook her head. “You’re too afraid you’ll end up fucking them up as much as your father fucked you up.” It wasn’t a question, not even close. Clorinde knew him too well to ever doubt this. 

“You know the fact that you’re afraid of that means you won't, right? You asked me if I think you’re a good person when what you really want to know is if I think you would make a good father and those are two different things Wriothesley. Whether you’re a good person is debatable, but that you’d be a good dad is unquestionable.”

He could feel Clorinde’s eyes on him, studying his face, absorbing the way he clenched his fists in his jacket as his throat closed up and his eyes pricked with heat. When she poked him in the side with a single finger he couldn’t hold it in anymore and the tears spilled over. 

“Damn you,” he groaned and wiped the back of his hand over his cheeks. Clorinde, bless her, didn’t comment. 

“Ask anyone, Wriothesley. They’ll say the same.” He didn’t have to ask anyone else, he realised, as they had already said the same. But to hear it from Clorinde, the one person who knew all his ugly, meant more than anything. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, out of breath as tears still clogged his throat. Clorinde put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed softly, holding him for a lengthy moment before she turned back to the water and just sat, a quiet comfort as Wriothesley allowed himself to feel all the emotions that had made him cry to begin with. 

Several long, quiet minutes later Clorinde got to her feet, dusted herself off and reached a hand down for him to take. 

“Come on, you need something to do and we’re fixing rope bridges today so we need a maniac to do the swinging.” He took her hand and she pulled him to his feet. She slapped his bicep with a smile then turned and walked away. Despite knowing he should be heading back, he followed after her. 

They weren’t far from Poisson so it wasn’t long until they could hear voices and sounds of building work in the distance, funneled out of the large hole in the ground that led to the dwellings of Poisson. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Navia. She’s been wanting to meet you,” Clorinde said when they reached the opening and the first ladder leading into the depths. 

“Should I be worried?”

“Nah, she’s just a bit energetic.”

Wriothesley laughed as Clorinde slid down the first ladder, landing with a muted thunk at the bottom, and followed her as soon as she moved out of the way. 

“How’s that going by the way?” he asked, holding out an arm to stop Clorinde as she made to move on without answering. “I just cried in front of you, the least you can do is tell me if you’ve kissed her yet.”

Clorinde dropped her gaze to the ground, her mouth a tight line of tension across her face. 

“I’m not going to,” she said and lifted her head to look out at Poisson below them. 

“Why not?” he asked after a long moment of silence. 

“Because our relationship now is up to her. I’m happy with being her friend, even if that means I’ll never get to kiss her.” 

He could understand her reasoning and put in her shoes he probably would have done the same, but Clorinde wasn’t him and he didn’t want her to make the same mistakes he had. 

“That sounds like a very one-sided relationship and from what you’ve told me about Miss Navia, I doubt she’d be very happy with you if she knew. If she’s forgiven you then respect that, there’s nothing more to make up for.” 

Clorinde continued to gaze out at Poisson, but her shoulders loosened and when Wriothesley peeked he could see a hint of a smile curving her mouth. 

“I’m going to do something weird,” she said and before Wriothesley knew it he was enfolded in a gentle hug, Clorinde’s slender arms tightening around his waist just long enough that he could hug her back and then she was gone, down the ladder and out of sight. 

Miss Navia was every bit as impressive and welcoming as Wriothesley had been led to believe. She had greeted him with as much jubilance as a bear hug but with respectfully little physical contact then immediately put him to work. 

“Come with me Your Grace, I have just the job for you,” she said and her voice was as light and energetic as a song. Wriothesley couldn’t help but smile. 

“Just Wriothesley is fine,” he said as he followed her down to the water where a half finished rope bridge rested on the ground, attached only on one side. 

“Well, then it’s just Navia for you,” she said and poked her umbrella into the grass and leaned against it. 

“We need to get this bridge stretched across the water and attached to the platform on the other side. Normally we’d use ropes to pull it over, but with your cryo vision I bet you could just walk it across right now.” She gestured with one hand, a pair of dark sunglasses held between two fingers. 

“We’ve had a lot of people helping out, even Monsieur Neuvillette arrived shortly after the flood with a boatload of building materials and has been by several times since. I think he feels guilty, I may have been a little harsh with him last time we spoke one-on-one.” 

Her voice was still light and melodic and Wriothesley didn’t get the impression she regretted what she had said to Neuvillette, but he didn’t think his efforts since had gone unnoticed either. 

“He told me about that,” he said as he crouched down to examine the depth and movements of the water. “I’m pretty sure I can say this for both of us, but thank you.”

Navia didn’t say anything while he looked at the running water; nor when he summoned one of his gloves to help focus a burst of ice strong enough to freeze the water from top to bottom; nor when they each grabbed a side of the robe bridge and hauled it across; she was remarkably steady on the ice and was stronger than she looked. But when they reached the other side and had pulled the planks of the bridge onto dry land, she turned to him, hands on her hips and an inscrutable smile on her face. 

“You speak of him like you’re an item,” was all she said and yet Wriothesley felt caught out. He didn’t think Clorinde would have said anything, but he supposed the little he had said wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“It’s …complicated,” he said and gave a tense smile when Navia set her gaze on him. 

“Yeah I imagine it would be,” she said and Wriothesley felt a smidge of resentment on Neuvillette’s behalf but quickly concluded that she probably had the right to be a little disdainful of the man who had sentenced her father to death, especially considering recent enlightenment. It was a complicated matter to say the least and Neuvillette didn’t have a childhood history with Navia the way Clorinde had. 

“He’s a good man,” he said after all, incapable of not taking Neuvillette’s defense. “He’s a better human than most, despite him …” He stopped himself; it was highly doubtful someone of Navia’s intellect didn’t know, but he didn’t want to be the one to reveal the truth in case she didn’t. 

“Despite him not being one,” Navia finished for him. ”I suppose you would know that better than me.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m sure about Neuvillette but in my experience the closer you are to someone the more likely you are to be blinded by them.” It hadn’t been his intention to lead the conversation in that direction, but he would rather talk about his own wretched past than discuss Neuvillette with someone who was less than enthused about him. It was protective maybe, but Wriothesley didn’t care. Navia watched him closely for a long, tense moment and then she smiled and it was like the sun had broken through the ground above them. 

“My father was very fond of you, you know. He talked about you at length at dinner the day you were given your title. Said there was no one more worthy of it .” She took on the impression of a man with a deep and sonorous voice that was surprisingly accurate to what Wriothesley remembered of her father. 

“I met him a couple times, he was always very supportive of my reforms.” What he didn’t say was that Wriothesley had met Monsieur Caspar long before he became Warden of the Fortress, when he was on trial for killing his parents. Callas had spoken in his defense and had been the prime motor behind the opinion that he had acted in self defense. At the time he hadn’t believed him, had been so disillusioned by his own parents’ act that he had seen it as nothing more than a powerful man covering his own tracks. It was only when they met again fifteen years later that he realised how wrong he had been. He looked at Navia and realised she already knew; whether from her father or her own network as Spina di Rosula, she knew every interesting thing about him. 

“He was right to,” she said with a smile, before her face turned solemn. “I don’t make a habit of counteracting my father, Your Grace; the Spina is still your ally.”

“Ally against what?” he asked with a twist of wry amusement in his voice. He didn’t doubt she would catch his meaning. 

“Rest easy Duke, I don’t dislike Monsieur Neuvillette, on the contrary I believe he is the best leader Fontaine could possibly have, but I can’t be the only person in Fontaine left wounded in the wake of his judgement.” She wasn’t, not by a long shot, Wriothesley walked among a great number of them every day. “With the prophecy out of the way it’s even more important that Fontaine has good leadership, but I have high hopes for the future. Don’t you?”

He only laughed in response and Navia accepted it with a bright and tinkling laugh of her own, but the truth was he did. He did believe that Fontaine was headed towards a better future and more than that he believed they were all in good hands with Neuvillette at the helm. And with the young Spina di Rosula in the rook’s nest they wouldn’t get lost.

“How about we get this bridge fastened so we can go about un-complicating your relationship with the Chief Justice?” He began to protest but Navia ran him over with a boisterous laugh. “Don’t even try and take this away from me!”

He didn’t. In truth he had already uncomplicated it in his own head and all that was left to do was to tell Neuvillette about it. But he supposed he could accept a little womanly help on that part. If only to see Clorinde squirm as they discussed how best to seduce her boss.

Chapter Text

The Palais Mermonia towered ominously over him, its spires swallowed by the dark with nary a light in its massive windows. Riddled with nerves, Wriothesley couldn’t help but liken its enormity to what he was about to do. His whole life would change the second he stepped through those doors, pushed onto a different track all together and one he had never envisioned for himself. But by the gods he wanted it. He had never been more excited about something in his entire life. It was terrifying, but it would give him Neuvillette and that was worth everything. The opening and closing of the door behind him echoed in the vaulted room and every step he took as he crossed the marble floor were loud in his ears. He was alone, but not for long. Whether by his scent or the rhythm of his gait, Neuvillette had recognised him, and he appeared like a ghost in the door to his office. 

“Wriothesley,” he said and Wriothesley wanted to run at him; to fall into his arms or fall at his feet; to kiss him; to hold him and never let go. The rush of desperate need almost overcame him, but he managed, by the skin of his teeth, to keep himself in check. “It’s late, is everything alright?”

He nodded, holding himself stiffly, the only evidence of his inner turmoil the lengthening of his strides until he was standing in front of Neuvillette. 

“I’m alright, I just … wanted to see you. Are you busy?”

Neuvillette opened the door for him as an answer and ushered him inside. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp on Neuvillette’s desk creating a halo around the hefty furniture while leaving the rest of the room in darkness. He had expected to find Neuvillette in his apartment so late at night but something about this conversation happening in his office felt right. It was the place this whole thing started; it had seen so many developments in their relationship from strangers to colleagues to friends to lovers; it felt right that it would also witness this. 

“Are you here in a professional capacity?” Neuvillette asked and when Wriothesley shook his head in the negative his face changed. A look of hot contentment settled over his beautiful face and Wriothesley half expected him to start purring any moment. 

“I was hoping we could talk … about …” Wriothesley gestured at the space between them and vaguely at the ceiling, perhaps at Neuvillette’s apartment on the upper floor, a subconscious correlating of Neuvillette and home. 

“I would like that,” Neuvillette whispered as if to speak any louder would break the moment. Or chase Wriothesley away. 

They sat close together on a sofa, neither bothered by the lack of light as their hands naturally migrated towards each other, touching knees and thighs before settling in a loosely folded embrace of fingers. There was so much they needed to talk about—feelings that needed to be articulated, logistics that needed to be discussed, and so much more—but the only thing that mattered now was the truth. And not wasting any more time. So with Neuvillette’s attention firmly on him, Wriothesley dove straight in.

“I want you to know that I’ve changed my mind. You were right, I was afraid and I still am. I’m so scared that I’m going to fuck it up and end up hurting someone who’s reliant on me.”

“You won’t, Wriothesley. I’m sure of it.” Wriothesley smiled with a sigh that was expressive enough to paint a frown on Neuvillette’s face. 

“Yeah, you and everyone else. Doesn’t change that I still might. But I know now that if I do then there are plenty of good people who would make up for it, and not just you. There are good people around me who would ensure their safety.”

“You will ensure their safety, Wriothesley. More than anyone.” His words had clearly upset Neuvillette. There was an almost angry set to his eyebrows and Neuvillette’s grip on his hand had tightened to an uncomfortable degree. “You are not someone who walks in the footprints of those who came before you; you do not make their mistakes. Any child, be they your own or not, will always be safer around you, Wriothesley. This is not an opinion, it is fact.”

Wriothesley watched Neuvillette in stunned silence long enough that the man grew uncomfortable and dropped his gaze. He let go of Wriothesley’s hands and gently rubbed his thumb over the bruised skin in silent apology. 

“Well I can’t argue with the Chief Justice,” Wriothesley said at long last, his voice hoarse with emotion. “But I think it’s gonna take me some time to get to believing it myself.”

Neuvillette ran a hand through Wriothesley’s hair, the scratch of his fingernails sending pleasant shivers through his body. 

“But you are sure it is something you want?” he asked quietly, hesitantly, and Wriothesley leaned forward and kissed him and rested their foreheads together when they parted.  

“I am sure that I want to be with you,” he whispered, closing his eyes in pleasure as Neuvillette’s hand came to rest on his nape, squeezing gently. “And I am sure that whatever follows will be worth it if I get to have you.”

It would take time for him to be completely at ease with the concept of children, most likely he never would be, but he would work at it and hopefully he would get close enough. And if not, then he wouldn’t be alone.

“I want a family with you, Neuvillette.” He smiled, then laughed as his eyes warmed for the second time that day. When he made a move to wipe the tears away before they fell Neuvillette stopped him and, with a strange intensity in his eyes, leaned in and placed a kiss at the corner of his left eye. He held still there for a long moment and when he pulled back there was a gentle smile on his face. Wriothesley wondered if Neuvillette had tasted his feelings in his tears. 

“We are in agreement then,” Neuvillette said then used his hold on Wriothesley’s nape to pull him into a firm kiss, the sealing of a contract. 

“Did you just taste my tears to see if I meant it?” Wriothesley laughed, a choked sound that barely made it past his throat. 

“Did I overstep?” Neuvillette asked and his grip on Wriothesley turned weak. 

“Not at all. I actually think it’s easier like this. I won’t have to say things out loud all the time.” Neuvillette gave him a look that made Wriothesley want to shrivel up into a ball, in a good way. 

“You’re going to make me say it out loud anyway, aren’t you.” Neuvillette smiled, hummed, and pressed his answer into a kiss on Wriothesley’s lips. 

Kissing Neuvillette was always good, but there was something different about this one. Wriothesley suspected it had something to do with honesty; honesty of feelings, of self, was, like Sigewinne would say, its own kind of magic. He had wanted Neuvillette from the beginning, since that time in his office more than a year ago, long before that even since he was being honest. He had never wanted a casual thing, like Neuvillette he was not made for it, too cautious and distrustful. Kissing Neuvillette and knowing that no one else might ever be in his place was intoxicating. Before he had thought to move Wriothesley was climbing into Neuvillette’s lap, a halting endeavor as the buckles and crevices on his boots caught on the fabric, made smooth when Neuvillette slid his hands under his thighs and hauled him flush against him. 

“I have been accosted by an insatiable longing ever since we parted ways,” Neuvillette said softly into Wriothesley’s mouth before curling his tongue past Wriothesley’s lips to taste him. 

“I was not prepared to miss you as much as I have.” From the way Neuvillette held him still and grinded his hard cocks against him, Wriothesley knew it wasn’t a spiritual longing he had been riddled with. Neuvillette had not been in rut in the time they had been apart, but still he had wanted Wriothesley like this; just to have him in his arms and touch him and fuck him. The thought sent Wriothesley’s heart racing. 

“Please Monsieur,” he moaned, entirely on purpose this time, and Neuvillette answered his plea with a devouring kiss. Wriothesley let go of a sigh of complete and utter relief as he fell into Neuvillette’s chest and felt the unflinching security of Neuvillette’s strength holding up against his weight. More than any physical thing, that is what he had missed most. Sliding his fingers into Neuvillette’s hair, gods it was soft as silk, Wriothesley pulled away from Neuvillette’s toe-curling kiss and pushed his nose into his forehead, placed kisses along his hairline to the growth of one rhinophore. On this he added his tongue. Under him Neuvillette bucked involuntarily and moaned loudly. Wriothesley smiled against the bone hard appendage and slid his mouth along its length as far as he could reach, wrapping his tongue especially around the softer, sponge-like half that, if he remembered correctly, was most sensitive. Neuvillette’s tightening grip told him he had remembered correctly. 

“Can you sit up more? I can’t reach.” Wriothesley licked along the length, nibbling carefully as Neuvillette’s rhinophores began to glow with a faint light. Neuvillette did more than sit up more. In a second Wriothesley felt himself being moved as Neuvillette rose to his feet and deposited him on the low sofa table before he knelt in front of him. 

“Go on,” Neuvillette growled, looking up at Wriothesley from between his legs with the look of someone who was barely restraining themselves. Wriothesley stroked a hand over his cheek and pecked his forehead then he wrapped his lips around Neuvillette’s left rhinophore and flicked his tongue over and around it, giving it as much diligence as he would to Neuvillette’s cocks. He felt Neuvillette pull his shirt from his trousers and slide his hands against his skin, but other than that he made no moves to disrupt him. When he reached the end of the left rhinophore, Wriothesley took it in his mouth and sucked. It tasted faintly of the sea, not that different from Neuvillette’s ovipositor, and it pulsed on his tongue with vibrant life. 

“Wriothesley-“ Neuvillette’s voice, already a strangled mess, cut off with his name and morphed into a moan unlike any Wriothesley had ever heard from him. He dug his face into Wriothesley’s bicep and his hands scrabbled at Wriothesley’s waist as if he was slipping. It was desperate; it was out of control and Wriothesley had never felt such self-satisfaction in his life. To drive Neuvillette to the brink like that was almost enough to make him cum untouched. He took Neuvillette’s other rhinophore between his fingers and stroked along its length in a slow, continuous glide to the end, all while sucking on the one in his mouth. Neuvillette had never hidden the fact that his rhinophores were sensitive, but he had never reacted like this when Wriothesley had grasped them and clung to them as he was fucked to oblivion. 

“Monsieur,” Wriothesley gasped in pain when Neuvillette’s fingers dug into his sides. Neuvillette moaned into his arm and gentled his hold before he surged up, unsettling Wriothesley’s mouth and hands, to delve his tongue into Wriothesley’s mouth. Unable to continue sucking as Neuvillette claimed ownership of his mouth, Wriothesley wrapped his arms around Neuvillette and grasped the soft ends of his rhinophores and jerked them, creating a funnel of his hands that swallowed the lengths in a tight grip. Before long Neuvillette was tugging his cravat loose and tearing open his trousers just in time as he came into the white, ruffled fabric. 

The ghost of his orgasm, however quiet it had been, seemed to echo in the empty room. Neuvillette slumped against Wriothesley’s chest and Wriothesley was content to hold him and intermittently stroke a hand through his hair as they both caught their breath. 

“My apologies,” Neuvillette said eventually, but didn’t move. Wriothesley pressed a kiss to the side of his face and nuzzled his nose into his hairline, inhaling deeply. 

“Neuvillette,” he said firmly despite his pleasured haze lacing his voice with a content giggle. “Never apologize for wanting me like that. It is without a doubt the hottest thing ever.”

Neuvillette laughed softly and nuzzled his face into Wriothesley’s chest, scenting him deeply as he slowly rose to stuff his nose into his favourite spot behind Wriothesley’s ear. 

“Your arousal is delectable,” he said in a low rumble that sent shivers down Wriothesley’s spine and made his hole clench in anticipation. 

“But, and I am truly sorry to keep you waiting, would you indulge me in something first?” Neuvillette sounded sorry; he sounded like he wanted nothing more than to bend Wriothesley over his desk like their first time and fuck him until neither of them could do so much as move a finger. 

“Anything,” Wriothesley said and he meant it. He could forgo his own desires if it was what Neuvillette wanted. It helped that Neuvillette was so reluctant about it. 

“When we were in the Fortress surrounded by water I felt more at peace than I believe I ever have before and I have come to the conclusion that it must be because I had you there, safe within my element. I would ask that you accompany me to the lake right now. I promise I will satisfy your arousal once we are there.” 

Wriothesley cupped Neuvillette’s face in his palms and leant down to give him a soft, lingering kiss. 

“Even if you didn’t I would still come with you. I would follow you anywhere, My Sovereign.”

Wriothesley didn’t need to be able to read emotions in water to read Neuvillette’s face in that instant. There was surprise and delight in his initial reaction that slowly melted into solemnity as he realised the true weight of Wriothesley’s words. It was not a hypocoristic term; it was not said purely out of affection. Wriothesley had the utmost trust and respect for Neuvillette as a leader and would gladly bow his head in deference to him. 

“I am most grateful for your trust, Duke Wriothesley.” 

And that was exactly why. Neuvillette could have said many things in response to Wriothesley’s announcement and they wouldn’t have been wrong, but for Neuvillette it was, in its essence, a matter of trust. In Neuvillette’s mind, he could only be a good leader so long as his subjects trusted him to be one and Wriothesley didn’t doubt that if that would ever change then Neuvillette would gracefully step down. Not that it would ever happen. Wriothesley dipped his head and pressed his lips to Neuvillette’s, a slow and gentle melding of mouths that took his breath away and stoked the embers of his unfulfilled desire. 

“Where do you want to go then?” he asked between one kiss and the next. Neuvillette made a sound like a content cat and dug both hands into Wriothesley’s hair so he could kiss him some more before he at last pulled back with a small sigh. 

“Somewhere private.” It was all he said as he rose to his feet and straightened his clothes, disguising their hurried affair with the pristine front of the Iudex of Fontaine. He took Wriothesley’s hand and pulled him along out of his office and the Palais and through the mostly quiet streets until they reached a door in the outer wall that Wriothesley was sure was supposed to be locked but that Neuvillette opened with a muted crack of a broken mechanism. 

“In a hurry, Monsieur?” Wriothesley teased, but any further remark he might make was silenced as Neuvillette pulled him close with an arm around his waist and kissed him soundly in the middle of the street. Wriothesley didn’t know whether they were alone or if Neuvillette had just made a spectacle of them and he didn’t care. He twined his arms around Neuvillette’s neck and held on as the breath was slowly, intensely, stolen from his lungs by a kiss that didn’t want to end. His feet moved of their own accord as Neuvillette pulled him across the threshold then pushed his back against the door, using their momentum to close it firmly, shutting off any potentially prying eyes. The sound echoed between the tall stone walls and in Wriothesley’s ears like a heartbeat as Neuvillette lifted him off his feet and surged against him, pressing him firmly into the door. The hinges creaked under pressure and Wriothesley felt every rise and crevice in the metal where it pressed into his back. And not once did Neuvillette let up kissing him. It was like the openness, the lack of secrecy masking their affair, had ignited something in him, something Wriothesley hoped would never be doused. 

“Neuvlet … Neuvmnm … Neuvillette ah!” Speaking was difficult with his mouth occupied and all his senses on high, nearly overwhelmed as Neuvillette touched him everywhere, hands on his waist and hips and butt and thighs and under his shirt and hiking his legs up higher all leading to a crescendo as Neuvillette broke from his mouth and finally finally set his teeth in Wriothesley’s neck and bit down hard. Sensation exploded through Wriothesley’s neural pathways turning pain into pleasure that occupied his every senses, turning him limp in Neuvillette’s unfaltering embrace. A familiar haze settled over his mind as Neuvillette withdrew his teeth from his flesh and licked over the wound he had made, sealing up the broken skin and repairing the burst blood vessels underneath. He couldn’t smell them, but he recognised the effect of Neuvillette’s pheromones bolstering his endurance, preparing him for what was to come. For a moment he wondered if Neuvillette was in rut, but he would have said something if that was the case. This at least Wriothesley didn’t doubt. He had some doubt that they would ever make it to the water like Neuvillette wanted. 

As if to prove him wrong Neuvillette pulled away a moment later and slowly lowered Wriothesley’s feet to the ground; hands that had touched him so feverishly now handled him like precious porcelain. The sudden shift was not an unfamiliar thing, but the distressed crease in Neuvillette’s forehead was worrying. Wriothesley had an inkling what it was about. 

“Neuvillette, love, look at me.” Neuvillette did with an immediacy that shot heat through Wriothesley’s gut. He would have to ask Neuvillette about that at some point; the instinct to heed Wriothesley’s words clashed curiously with Neuvillette’s more dominant behaviour and added another facet to the man that Wriothesley needed to unravel. 

“I want everything, okay? I want all of you all the time so please don’t hold back.” Neuvillette leaned into the hand Wriothesley held to his face and the frown disappeared but the gentle way of holding Wriothesley remained. 

“I do not want to hurt you,” he whispered, a small resigned smile on his lips. 

“The sentiment is mutual,” Wriothesley said and pulled Neuvillette close. “So how about we just decide not to hurt each other?” That pulled a laugh from Neuvillette that went straight to Wriothesley’s chest, causing his heart to miss a beat before racing to catch up again. 

“I do not believe that is how it works, even with humans.”

“Well aren't you learning fast.”  

Wriothesley pushed at Neuvillette’s chest until he stepped back then peeled himself off the door with a groan. 

“Remember what we agreed?” He tucked Neuvillette’s hair behind his ear and let his hand linger on the side of Neuvillette’s face. 

“When we want something or when we’re unsure about something, we talk about it. I know our last night together ended horribly for you and I want us to work through that together, but please trust that I will let you know if you do something I don’t want.”

Neuvillette lifted a hand to Wriothesley’s hair, fingers gently sifting through the short spikes at the back of his head, and smiled. 

“I will do my very best to,” he said. 

“And I will do the same,” Wriothesley said in return and sealed the promise with a kiss. 

They walked hand in hand to the water’s edge, a comfortable silence having fallen over them. Without speaking they both undressed, clothes neatly folded on top of an abandoned crate and shoes lined up next to each other in the sand in a tableau of contrasts. Wriothesley smiled at the sight of it. 

“So this thing you want, it wouldn’t happen to be fucking me in Fontaine lake would it?” Wriothesley broke the silence once they were both naked and Neuvillette took his hand and pulled him into the water. The air above had the bite of nighttime chill, but the water was a comfortable temperature where it lapped at Wriothesley’s feet. Neuvillette chuckled, a deep throaty sound. 

“It is definitely part of it.”

That’s when Wriothesley felt it; a feeling like rain drops falling on him and slipping over his skin, except they weren’t falling, they were climbing. He looked down at his feet and huffed a breath as he saw tendrils of water creeping up his ankles to his calves. The sand shifted under his feet as the water forced its way under him, tickling the soles of his feet. It was almost like it couldn’t bear anything else touching him, as if it had a mind of its own. No, not of its own; Neuvillette. 

“I thought this might happen,” Neuvillette said. He had let go of Wriothesley’s hand at one point and was watching closely as the lake came to life around them, twisting closer with unnatural motions to wrap around Wriothesley. 

“I am not consciously doing this,” he continued as he moved deeper into the water. “But I can feel you as if it were my hands touching you.”

The sensation was definitely odd as the water twined around him more and more and Wriothesley had a brief moment of panic as he remembered he had left his vision with his clothes and gods the water could drown him so easily but Neuvillette would never, ever hurt him and this was Neuvillette, simply in another form. 

“Can you touch me consciously like this?” Wriothesley gasped sharply as the water all at once engulfed his cock and balls and grasped his ass cheeks in a tight, slick grip. Neuvillette didn’t move but his eyes darkened and his lips parted ever so slightly as he focused on touching the parts of Wriothesley that would make him cum the fastest. Wriothesley had barely moved from the shore but the water covered him, engulfing him up to his thighs and caressing his back with constantly flowing motions designed to overwhelm his senses. The pleasure of it all consumed him until he was shouting out as an orgasm swept through him, taking him by surprise as his cock emptied into the water’s fluid grip. 

Neuvillette, when Wriothesley regained a sense of awareness, was watching him with a satisfied gleam in his luminous eyes. His rhinophores were glowing like they never had before and when Wriothesley looked closer he could see lines of shimmering blue stretching down Neuvillette’s body. They seemed to pulse with life, with ocean, with power and life-giving water. He was enchanting. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Wriothesley said and held out a hand to Neuvillette, beckoning him closer. Neuvillette accepted the hand, but just as soon as he had taken a step towards Wriothesley he stopped. As the water moved around him Neuvillette tilted his head with a faraway gaze as if he was listening to something. 

“Neuvillette?” Wriothesley tugged on his hand but Neuvillette remained rooted to the sand bed and his face took on a hesitant cast. His hand was warm in Wriothesley’s hand, his grip strong, but he kept his distance even as their eyes met. 

“I am sorry Wriothesley, I did not think this would happen,” he said and the shaded look in his eyes drew Wriothesley towards him but the water held him back. 

“Didn’t think what would happen?” he asked, grunting as he strained against the water’s hold on his body. It was as unyielding as Neuvillette’s hands. 

“The water is calling to me, demanding something from me, and I feel-”

Neuvillette’s voice cut off, words abruptly swallowed as a wave of visible discomfort swept over him. The blue lines along his body pulsed stronger, glowing with a light to rival the moon in the sky. His eyes shone so brightly all Wriothesley could see was the light and how it seemed to spill from the confines of Neuvillette’s eyes, flickering almost like flames.

“What’s happening?!” A note of panic had entered Wriothesley’s voice and Neuvillette squeezed his hand in comfort.

“It is alright, Wriothesley. I will be alright. You know, this is the first time since regaining my authority that I have stepped fully into my waters. I have felt it calling to me, and now I know why.”

The panicked feeling grew in Wriothesley’s chest with every word from Neuvillette’s lips; they sounded too much like saying goodbye, like apologies and regret and all the things he had thought they were past. This wasn’t right; they had done the distance, had the heartbreak; this was supposed to be their new beginning, their first step to forever. 

“Don’t leave me.” The words fled him on a sob but oddly enough, Neuvillette smiled. They were still only touching hands, the water was still holding Wriothesley back, but Neuvillette smiled like he had never been happier. 

“Never.”

That one word resonated through the water, vibrating in every cell of Wriothesley’s body as the promise made a home for itself in his heart. Then Neuvillette disappeared, absorbed into the whirling water and foam, there one moment and gone the next. And then the water laid still. It fell from Wriothesley’s body until it only covered his feet and the surface became as clear as glass. He could see a curious hermite crawling up the banks and a school of tiny fishes swimming peacefully by. The calm lasted only a moment more; while the water was still clear, the fish were suddenly hurrying away and the hermite crab disappeared into its shell, hiding from an invisible predator. The water began to bubble and from its surface, as if created from the water itself, rose a creature, a beast, larger than anything Wriothesley had ever seen. Blue, glistening horns came first, then the beginnings of a mane of seaweed, then a head appeared out of the water, long and slender and unfathomably large. It rose above the water on a thick neck lined with spikes that looked like corals, green and pink and red and orange all melting into luminous blue like the scales that covered the dragon’s body. The ground shook as a pair of legs formed beneath the water and came to rest heavily on the ground, sinking into the soft sea bed. It looked like ocean, as wild and terrifying as a boundless storm but still as gentle as a windless dawn. It was Neuvillette after all. 

A puff of air from large, scaled nostrils swept like a strong breeze past Wriothesley, cooling his wet skin, and behind—far, far behind—Neuvillette, a tail shot into the air and smacked the water with some force; playfulness made violent by Neuvillette’s truly massive size. 

“Is this for real?” Wriothesley said softly, more to himself than anything, but Neuvillette responded with a head tilt and another puff of breath that sent waves lapping at the shore. Hit by a sudden thought, Wriothesley scanned the sea bed for the hermite crab he had observed before but saw no trace of it. He wondered if Neuvillette had crushed it under his massive claws, and whether or not he would even have noticed. Apex predator of the sea indeed. 

“You. Are. Magnificent.” With every word Wriothesley took a step forward until he could press his hand to the flat expanse of Neuvillette’s face, feeling the coarseness of the scales against his skin and the movement of water under his palm. Water didn’t drip from Neuvillette, but it was tangibly a part of him, covering his large form as much as the scales did, creating an interesting contrast between rough and smooth to the touch. 

Neuvillette purred at his touch and where the sound had before been a quiet rumble, now it shook the ground under them and caused Wriothesley’s entire arm to shake. 

“Hey you,” he murmured and when another long purr sent ripples through the water, Wriothesley pressed his forehead to Neuvillette’s face and closed his eyes. His arms fell short of meeting as he wrapped them around Neuvillette, but he held on as tightly as he could, fearing Neuvillette might dissolve into the water again if he let him go. Time lost its meaning as they stood there, as the magnificent dragon allowed Wriothesley to cling like a child to soothe his own fears. Dark clouds covered the moon but it made no difference as Neuvillette lit up the night with his own iridescence. 

“I don’t care if this is how you are now just don’t leave me, okay? Fuck.” The curse spilled from his mouth coated in such desperate fear it took him off guard. As it turned out, being accustomed to loss didn’t mean he was accustomed to losing Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette—the beautiful, gentle giant—his Sovereign Dragon, growled something deep within his throat, a sound that echoed inside his body like through a cavernous hall and sent ripples across the surface of the water. He pressed against Wriothesley so his snout pushed between his legs and then they were touching from the toes of Wriothesley’s feet to the top of his head. If Wriothesley was of sound mind, this would’ve stalled him; Neuvillette could easily swallow him whole if he wanted and from the way he pressed his face to Wriothesley’s whole body it felt like he wanted; but this was Neuvillette, and Wriothesley had never been afraid of him. He had only ever been afraid of the things Neuvillette made him feel.

Slowly, as if intentionally rubbing against Wriothesley, Neuvillette lifted his head, nudging Wriothesley’s feet further apart as his snout pushed between his thighs and loudly sniffed him. Heat flooded Wriothesley’s gut as he realised what Neuvillette was smelling; he was aroused. Neuvillette’s large, beastly form had turned him on as well as his human form did and while Wriothesley knew that was something he might want to look closer at, he couldn’t find the energy in him to be embarrassed. No matter the shape, size or even species, it was still Neuvillette and Wriothesley was utterly mad for Neuvillette. Also, self-preservation had never been Wriothesley’s strong suit.

Whether it was Neuvillette’s claws or a concentration of lake water that put him on his back, Wriothesley couldn’t say, all he knew was that the Sovereign Dragon seemed even larger as he loomed over Wriothesley’s prone form, pushing him into the sand with the tip of his snout as wide as Wriothesley’s chest. The sand shifted underneath him as Neuvillette set both feet on either side of Wriothesley, gouging deep trenches into the loose dirt, and with a wholly satisfied puff of air, the great dragon settled on top of him.

Neuvillette’s strength had always been immobilising, but in his human form Wriothesley had been larger and able to fool himself into thinking he could overpower Neuvillette if he wanted to. Now, he had no chance. Neuvillette was so large, so heavy and altogether voluminous that he made Wriothesley feel like an ant in comparison. His head alone blotted out the sky and when he reached out and grasped, Wriothesley was unable to wrap his fingers around even one of those deadly-looking claws. Even so, he wanted to wrap himself around Neuvillette; to pull him into himself, under his very skin so Neuvillette could feel without a single doubt how Wriothesley’s heart beat for him. The breath that rushed over his skin smelled of sweet kelp and fresh water and Wriothesley sucked it in greedily then grabbed hold of Neuvillette’s muzzle and pulled himself up to rub his face against him. He felt himself grow hard under the pressure of Neuvillette’s wide neck and hissed as the rough-smooth texture of his watery scales touched his sensitive cock. Neuvillette never did anything but breathe, but the slight movement of his large neck as he did so was enough to stimulate him, and the feeling of being cradled so gently by something so large and dangerous satisfied a fantasy Wriothesley didn’t even know he had. He pressed his mouth to Neuvillette’s snout when he came, muffling his high, euphoric sounds against its cold surface, and his back arched clean off the ground as he used his hands to pull himself as close to Neuvillette as he possibly could. 

It was over far too soon and as the daze of orgasm slipped from Wriothesley’s mind so did the draconic form slip from Neuvillette’s shoulders; coral spikes and large, scaled head turning translucent before returning to the water that once again laid still around them. The only trace of the large dragon Neuvillette had been were the cavernous footprints in the sand. As large as he had just been, Neuvillette’s tall form felt impossibly small on top of him, but was so much more tangible; he was again firm flesh that didn’t move under his hands and his skin was warm like sun-tanned sand. There was a beating heart inside his chest that Wriothesley had never been more aware of than in that moment, its beat a siren song to the words clogging Wriothesley’s throat.

“I love you so much,” he whispered and Neuvillette’s smile was blinding, so bright and uncontained it transformed his entire face and stole Wriothesley’s breath away. 

“And I love you, my Wriothesley.”

They laid like that for a long time; water lapping at their skin, sharing simple touches that meant more than anything. 

“I’m sorry,” Wriothesley said in a whisper, unwilling to disturb the gentle quiet. Neuvillette drew himself away from scenting Wriothesley’s neck and pushed up on his hands just enough to look down into Wriothesley’s face. The wind felt cold between them.

“For taking so long; for being an idiot about it all,” Wriothesley said before Neuvillette could voice the thoughts prevalent in his frown. 

“There is nothing idiotic about fear, Wriothesley,” he said and his tone was so didactic Wriothesley couldn’t help but laugh. He looked into Neuvillette’s eyes and basked in the abundance of emotions spilling out of them; he had never thought he could be so loved.

“But if you insist on this self-flagellation then alright, I am sure we can find some way for you to make it up to me.” 

Neuvillette pushed him into the sand with the weight of his own body and Wriothesley held him close in the cradle of his thighs and his body rose to the promise in the slide of Neuvillette’s hard cocks, despite being thoroughly satisfied already. 

“Was that your true form?” he asked and ran a hand up Neuvillette’s bare back, imagining the spikes that had covered it before. They had been large and uneven and looked so much like actual corals they might as well have been plucked from the sea itself. Neuvillette had looked part beast part ocean and somehow that had been just right. After all, Neuvillette was the ocean.

“That was a manifestation of my power,” Neuvillette said with his mouth pressed to Wriothesley’s neck. “I did not intend to show it off,” he continued between lingering kisses, carrying a conversation while setting Wriothesley’s blood on fire. The Iudex truly expected too much of him. “It hadn’t occurred to me that I had yet to truly touch the water since regaining my full authority and I did not stop to think that something like this might happen. But I have felt the draw more acutely in the last days, like the water has been calling for me. Now I know why.”

A swell of disappointment quickly quashed took Wriothesley by surprise and while he was sure it hadn’t shown on his face, it was too brief and his self-control was too iron-clad for that, he could tell from the quirk of Neuvillette’s mouth that he had caught it. There were no secrets to be had between him and the water. 

“This is my true form,” Neuvillette said, brushing the backs of his fingers over Wriothesley’s cheek with one hand and gripping his thigh with the other, pulling it higher on his waist. “But since you liked it so much I am sure we can find a time to bring out the other one again.” Neuvillette was laughing while he said it, a low hum that coloured every word and should have made Wriothesley feel at least a little embarrassed, but all he felt was burning anticipation. Next time he would touch more; next time he would get to know Neuvillette’s power as if it was his own; for now, he pulled Neuvillette into a kiss with the intent to lose himself fully in this product of truth. He had fought hard for it after all.

Chapter Text

They greeted the dawn still wrapped in each other’s embrace, adrift at sea somewhere Wriothesley didn’t even know where. All he knew and all he had known for the long hours of the night was Neuvillette and being engulfed entirely by his arms and his waters. His body ached, but every time he had felt like he couldn’t go on Neuvillette had poured his essence into him and rejuvenated him, over and over and over again, until the sun peeked quietly over the horizon at the two of them so intimately entwined. 

Wriothesley pushed against Neuvillette’s shoulders until he was sitting in the man’s lap and could look up at the brightening sky. Neuvillette’s cocks laid heavy inside him, their width barely a stretch after so long, and the water underneath them was at once fluid and firm, lapping at his skin while supporting his knees as he moved slowly in Neuvillette’s lap, pushing himself up so he could fall onto his cocks in a satisfying dance. He felt as steady as if it had been the soft mattress of Neuvillette’s bed under his knees, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that they were floating aimlessly in the middle of Fontaine Lake, buoyed by Neuvillette’s absolute control.

“The sun is rising,” Wriothesley commented lightly as he sank onto Neuvillette’s cocks and rolled his hips once. “Someone is going to find our clothes.” The thought only then hit him, but it didn’t linger past being voiced; he didn’t much care either way if people knew and judging from his behaviour in the street the night before, neither did Neuvillette. 

A look of intense concentration swept over Neuvillette’s face, washed away in an instant by a smile of utter contentment that Wriothesley found it impossible to resist. 

“Not anymore,” Neuvillette said once their lips parted, the small smile growing to an uncontained grin. “Though they will need to be dried and possibly emptied of tiny sea creatures before they can be worn again.”

The look of unrestrained joy on Neuvillette’s face was still novel and Wriothesley found himself spellbound by it every single time, even though this was the fifth time he had seen it in one night. He had never believed he would find something like this; a person who could bring back those untainted feelings of joy he remembered from his childhood before everything went to shit. Before he learned to be cautious, to keep people at a distance and to not let himself feel so strongly. Neuvillette made him feel alive in ways he had never felt before. And he needed Neuvillette to know that, couldn’t possibly keep such a momentous thing to himself.

“You make me so fucking happy.”

The words left his lips on a laugh, slightly warbled and made entirely from joy. He felt Neuvillette’s arms tighten around his waist, pushing more laughter out of him that he in turn spilled into Neuvillette’s mouth. He felt certain he could taste Neuvillette’s reciprocating laugh on his tongue as they kissed. 

“Allow me to return the sentiment. Without the profanity,” Neuvillette said against the curve of Wriothesley’s mouth while sliding a hand into Wriothesley’s hair. 

“No, you gotta keep the profanity. It means more that way.” Wriothesley surged forward for another kiss and groaned half in frustration and half in pleasure when Neuvillette’s hand tightened in his hair and held him at bay. Neuvillette looked him in the eye as he held him still with the hand in his hair and the other on his hip, ensuring his focus was completely on the words he said next.

“You make me happier than I had ever in my long life expected to be. You invoke feelings in me that I do not have the vocabulary to name because I have never before had need of it. I am uncommonly lucky to have you in my life, Wriothesley, and I want you to know that.” 

Neuvillette’s voice was calm and collected as he caused Wriothesley to unravel at the seams. No one had ever claimed fortune from knowing Wriothesley and now Neuvillette had done it for a second time. It was still hard to believe that anyone’s life would be better from having him in it, but Wriothesley decided at that moment to believe Neuvillette above his own opinion of himself. And to refute a declaration like that would just be bad manners. 

“Alright,”Wriothesley said when he at last found his voice, “I get it, profanity does not necessarily make it mean more.”

Neuvillette laughed and used his hand in Wriothesley’s hair to pull them together in a deep, core clenching kiss. “I believe in your case, it does.”

He turned them around with a fluid twirl in the sea and Wriothesley felt the water like a hundred hands holding him up, grasping at his flesh with intent as Neuvillette hiked his legs higher up his back and thrust into him with the strength of a dragon. The two cocks slipped against each other inside Wriothesley’s slick, gaping hole, massaging his prostate with every thrust Neuvillette made that brought them together. Wriothesley dug both hands into Neuvillette’s long, wet hair and gripped tightly his rhinophores for something to hold onto as Neuvillette fucked him hard and deep. Slow, precise thrusts that had him moaning without end, clenching around Neuvillette’s cocks for a modicum more friction that had long since been abandoned as his muscles had been fucked loose hours ago.

“You feel so fucking good in me,” he sobbed, crying again from the pleasure his lover gave him; he had abandoned all restraint on that shore and felt not the slightest bit embarrassed as Neuvillette licked at the tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. 

“Monsieur. Monsieur. I want your eggs, fuck I want it, please Neuvillette,” he rambled as his nth orgasm of the night approached swiftly. In his mind he saw the ice balls he had created on his own and made them softer, smoother and coated with hydro. He wanted that, he wanted it more than anything. Neuvillette made a strangled noise deep in his chest that morphed into a desperate, soft and breathy, “Wriothesley” as he came, spilling into Wriothesley, flooding his insides with both cum and hydro-fluid, his body’s desperate attempt to give Wriothesley what he wanted. Wriothesley went stiff as he orgasmed as well, his cock twitching valiantly even though he had been cumming dry for the last half of the night. When it was over, he fell limp in Neuvillette’s embrace, hands falling to Neuvillette’s shoulders and legs slipping off Neuvillette’s sharp hips. The water crested around them, stopped by an invisible wall, and a small part of Wriothesley’s mind wondered at the state of the rest of Fontaine Lake, but as Neuvillette rested his cheek on his shoulder all thought of anything else slipped from his mind.

When he came to, there was firm sand under his back instead of shifting water and the clacking of chattery crabs filled his ears. He opened his eyes to blue skies and wispy clouds and realised it was morning and they were both probably late for work. It was difficult to care. Neuvillette was still on top of him but had shifted so his cheek was pressed to Wriothesley’s breast and his long hair stuck to Wriothesley’s skin, not yet dry. He was strangely quiet, hardly breathing as he rested on top of Wriothesley, but his hand was firm where it pressed against Wriothesley’s stomach as if feeling for something that was not yet there. 

“Soon,” Wriothesley whispered and that single word brought Neuvillette to life. He lifted off Wriothesley’s chest and pushed both hands under his back, easily digging a trench in the wet sand, to hug him close in a fierce embrace that took Wriothesley’s breath away, literally. 

“Baby, baby I can’t breathe,” he wheezed and Neuvillette loosened his hold but only a little, just enough so he wasn’t choking Wriothesley, not enough that he had any hope of moving until he was let up. Neuvillette hid his face in Wriothesley’s throat and inhaled deeply; “Soon.”

With Neuvillette nuzzling and subtly sniffing him, Wriothesley wrapped one arm around his lover’s back and pressed a hand to his own stomach the way Neuvillette had done, stroking the hard plane of it as he imagined what it would look like guarding Neuvillette’s eggs. He had seen it plenty distended the previous night when he took Neuvillette’s cock and ovipositor at once, but somehow he didn’t think that even came close to what it would be like to be full of Neuvillette’s eggs. 

“Are they big?” he asked as he poked at his own stomach. 

Neuvillette slipped off him with a last snuffle behind his ear and turned his gaze to Wriothesley’s stomach, resting his hand on top of Wriothesley’s. 

“A little larger than a hen’s egg,” he said and moved Wriothesley’s hand away to trace the shape on his stomach with a finger. It was a little larger than a large hen’s egg. 

“There will be a lot of them, however, but do not worry, I will pull out before it becomes too much.”

A sound of discontent slipped Wriothesley’s lips before he was aware of making it; his subconscious protesting the very notion of not taking all of them. 

“Not a chance, I don’t care how many we’re talking, I’m not letting a single one go to waste. If we’re doing this then we’re doing it right.”

Neuvillette pursed his lips and stayed quietly watching Wriothesley for a long moment before he spoke and when he did his voice was quiet, careful. 

“Wriothesley, you must know that not every egg will be viable. There is a multitude precisely because the viability is low. I understand that for humans the concept of stillborns is quite tragic, but you must not see it as such if only half or even less of the eggs are viable. Or at least prepare yourself for that possibility.”

He hadn’t thought about that. Neuvillette was right that the very idea of stillborns was a tragic thought and Wriothesley didn’t like the idea of not being able to bring every seed of Neuvillette’s progeny to life. It sat heavy in his chest like an anvil pushing against his ribs, not exactly painful but with a promise of pain in the future. 

“Even more reason for me to take all of them,” he said and pushed himself upright in the sand. “I don’t really understand how it works, but I get that you need me to fertilise them, you can’t do it on your own, so me taking all of them gives them their best chance.” He looked Neuvillette in the eye, those slitted eyes that looked anything but human and were still creased with doubt.

“I will take all of them, Neuvillette. Archons help you if you deny me that.”

He already knew that Neuvillette viewed his potential offspring differently than Wriothesley did; he had a far more relaxed attitude regarding their existence past the point of bringing them to life, which was somewhat hard to wrap his mind around considering how intensely Neuvillette wanted to breed. And while he was prepared to change a lot of his own worldviews for the man he loved, his belief that every single child that came from their union was precious from the moment their egg was fertilised was not one he was prepared to sacrifice. 

“Is it my previous comments on the matter that have you so worried?” Neuvillette asked, but the small curve of his mouth told Wriothesley he already knew the answer. 

“Let me remind you that I was desperately trying to convince you to stay with me. I was prepared to do whatever you needed to make this work, and I still am. It is true however that letting them loose in the water soon after hatching is the right thing to do, but Wriothesley, they will also come back home. There are certain things they can only learn on their own, but trust that no harm will ever come to them in my waters.”

Neuvillette’s voice went deep as the Elton Trench, resonating in the space between them, and the water that had kissed softly at Wriothesley’s feet since he woke, climbed up his body and wrapped around him in a warm embrace. He raised his arms to wrap around Neuvillette’s neck and pulled him close into a kiss hindered somewhat by the smile that had taken over his mouth. 

“I love you,” he murmured against Neuvillette’s lips and Neuvillette hummed softly and kissed him harder.

“And I love you.”

It had taken Wriothesley a while to notice that their clothes had been brought to the same beach they had ended up, but when he finally saw them, strewn across the sand, he had laughed for a long time. Something about seeing Neuvillette’s finely crafted clothing soaked and dirtied with sand and seaweed, while funny, had made the previous night seem all the more real. And even more precious. It was silly, but seeing that usually pristine coat so dirty like that had made Wriothesley feel like they were finally on even ground. 

After dressing just enough to not be completely naked should someone happen to walk by, which meant that they were both wearing soggy underwear and damp shirts that clung too much to be buttoned closed, they had gathered the rest of their clothes together and climbed onto a rock that poked into the sea to rinse the sand and tang from them. Wriothesley was picking at the collar of his jacket, struggling to untangle the slimy seaweed from the wet fur when Neuvillette looked over at him and laughed.

“I fear I did not think this through,” he said and laid a hand over Wriothesley’s, stalling its movements. The water swirled around their fingers, moving back and forth between the strands of fur until the tiny pieces of seaweed came loose and slipped away with the currents. 

“Not sure you really need to think anything through anymore when you can just do stuff like that,” Wriothesley replied then leaned over to press a kiss to Neuvillette’s cheek to wipe away the look of consternation his words had caused. Leave it to Neuvillette to be offended at the notion that deep thought and oversight was somehow not necessary.  Wriothesley folded his jacket and squeezed it between his hands to remove as much water as possible before laying it out on the rock next to his trousers and vest, then he sat back and watched as Neuvillette drew the water from the fabric one drop at a time. What looked to him to be an act requiring immense focus, didn’t seem to bother Neuvillette at all. Quite the opposite, the man was polishing the buckles of his spats with a wet kerchief and hadn’t spared Wriothesley’s jacket so much as a glance since he drew it from the water. 

“It looks like second nature to you to just control the water like that,” Wriothesley commented and Neuvillette looked up from his careful polishing.

“It is, or more precisely water is my nature. It is what I am made of, after all. Controlling it is as easy as breathing.” 

He thought back to earlier that morning when Neuvillette had reached out and found their clothing on the beach so far away and had brought them here.

“You mentioned that the waters of Fontaine are a part of you, and you can clearly find things and move things over great distances,” he gestured at their clothing drying on the rock. “Does it get tiring? To have an awareness so far outside your own body, I mean?”

Neuvillette moved closer to draw the water from Wriothesley’s shirt and pants; the closeness was obviously not necessary but Wriothesley very much appreciated it.

“Are you aware of every inch of skin covering your body at all times?” Neuvillette asked as he ran a palm up Wriothesley’s bare chest. “Of course not, but you can feel where I am touching you and you can tell the difference whether my hand is cold or warm by how it feels against your skin. And when there is an itch, you know exactly where to scratch. 

I can be aware of every molecule of hydro in this nation, and quite possibly beyond, at any time, but I am not aware of it all at all times.”

Wriothesley tipped forward and kissed Neuvillette, pushing against the hand on his chest and pouting his lips against Neuvillette’s when the steady hand caved under his pressure. 

“You cannot restrain yourself, my love,” Neuvillette said and laid his palm flat in the middle of Wriothesley’s chest again. Moving with a litheness usually preserved for more limber animals than humans, he slipped closer until he was kneeling over Wriothesley and moved his other hand to Wriothesley’s back directly opposite the one he held on his chest. Held between the two deceptively slender hands, Wriothesley found himself pinned in place, unable to even breathe too deeply. 

“You enjoy this to a curious degree,” Neuvillette murmured, so quiet Wriothesley barely heard it. He opened his mouth to say more, but after a quick glance at Wriothesley’s face he closed it again and retreated to sit next to him. 

“What were you going to say?” Wriothesley asked and shuffled a tiny bit closer so their shoulders pressed together. 

“It was nothing,” Neuvillette said, but the tone of his voice clearly said otherwise.

“No, go on. If we’re going to be spending our lives together then we will eventually put our foot in it, so to speak. I don’t want you to not say something because you’re worried how I’ll take it.”

Neuvillette exhaled a simile of a laugh and leaned over to brush his nose behind Wriothesley’s ear. 

“I was simply wondering about your desire to be restrained by me, or perhaps more accurately, to feel my strength on your body. It is not always in a sexual way, so I thought maybe it had something to do with your lack of a safe space. The fortress isn’t exactly a haven of peace.”

“You think I feel unsafe?” Wriothesley asked, careful not to reveal too much through his own tone. He wanted to know what Neuvillette was thinking. 

“Perhaps not personally, but it goes without saying that the position of Warden is not entirely secure. It was not given to you on account of your merits, though you have more than earned it, but rather you claimed it in the wake of the previous Warden’s death. It is always a possibility that the same thing you did all those years ago might one day be done to you. That is not an environment conducive to ease. Perhaps, and it would please me greatly if it was so, I have become something of a safe space for you.”

While listening to Neuvillette, Wriothesley thought back to the day he had arrived at Neuvillette’s doorstep in a haze, his mind churning nothing into something and his blood rushing in his ears with dizzying speed. Neuvillette had quieted it all. The stress, the constant thinking, the agitation and the overflow of energy that needed to be expelled; Neuvillette took it all away with a single embrace and what was left was empty, blessed silence. 

He didn’t think about that day a lot, mostly because he didn’t know what to make of it, but it fed Neuvillette’s theory enough that Wriothesley couldn’t ignore it. 

“I believe you’re right,” he said quietly, and rested his head against Neuvillette’s. “Your presence does something to my psyche that I don’t have the words to explain.”

Neuvillette turned his face into the side of Wriothesley’s head and inhaled deeply, lifting a hand to card his fingers through Wriothesley’s hair and hold him close. 

“I do not need you to explain it, as long as it is something you want, that it is to your liking.”

Wriothesley hummed softly and clasped Neuvillette’s free hand in his own. He wrapped an arm around Neuvillette’s waist to hold him close and whispered, “it is to my liking.” 

A sound of affirmation rumbled in Neuvillette’s throat and he slumped against Wriothesley to rest his head on his shoulder. He pressed his nose to Wriothesley’s pulse and stayed there, softly inhaling his scent as they basked in the warmth of the morning sun. Looking out at the sea and the distant views with Neuvillette in his arms, Wriothesley had never felt more at peace. 

“You know, this wouldn’t be a bad spot to raise a family,” he said while tipping his head backwards to look up at the short hill behind them. He could already see it; a house on top of the hill with stairs going down the cliff side to the beach where their dragonlings could come and go as they needed The small platform halfway down would be a perfect spot to enjoy a slow morning like this, as often as the weather would permit it. 

“We’d just have to clear out some hilichurls first.”

Wriothesley burst out laughing as Neuvillette shot to his feet, prepared to do just that right away. He was halted by a speedy hand catching his ankle and Wriothesley, despite his laughter, uttered a firm “not now, Neuvillette.” As expected, Neuvillette listened without delay and settled back down at Wriothesley’s side, once again hiding his face away in Wriothesley’s neck, but his hands migrated to Wriothesley’s stomach, guarding its expanse with the jealousy of a dragon. Once again, he wanted to ask Neuvillette about that because it was curious how Neuvillette  Neuvillette had been right before; they didn’t need to understand everything about each other right away; everything he needed to know about Neuvillette, he had the rest of his life to figure out.