Neuvillette, as it turns out, can have a very one track mind when given the opportunity.
It was meant as an opportunity to bridge the gap between Meropide and the surface. Neuvilletteâs suggestion came as a surprise. âFor the Carnivale,â heâd said, âwhy donât we hold a Pankration Tournament?â A solid idea, one that was met with mild resistance from everyone else until Neuvillette put his foot down. Perks of being the newly reigning Hydro Sovereign, Wriothesley supposes.Â
Fighting above ground was strange. The moves came familiarly but the sun beat down on them despite the upper levels of the Court of Fontaine partially obscuring it. Humid. Hot. Nothing like the cool depths of the Underground.Â
But Wriothesley had put on a show in the ring nonetheless, indulging in a rare exhibition match, much to the ire of Sigewinne. âToo old,â sheâd muttered, shaking her head, âto be beating others up for fun. Youâre the Administrator now. Youâre a Duke.â The âact like oneâ was heavily implied, but Wriothesley didnât give one ratâs ass because the entire point was showing off for Neuvillette.
Which worked. Oh, did it work. Neuvillette watched from the viewerâs platform, stiff-backed and straight, cane in his hands caught in a white-knuckled grip. Others stared at him, but he stared at Wriothesleyâa stare that Wriothesley felt burning right to his bones with every punch that he threw.
He was whisked away the moment the match was over. Neuvillette made a flimsy excuse that covered them both, and they retired to his townhouse for the remainder of the evening. Wriothesley expected a nice dinner, maybe a bath, and then relaxing in the sheets.Â
Wriothesley did not expect Neuvillette to tug him to the bedroom and kiss him feral, nothing but fangs, and that damnable forked tongue of his. Which is where they are now, slotted together, one of Neuvilletteâs thighs shoved between Wriothesley's legs. Itâs all consuming. Neuvillette devours him like Wriothesley is a meal, like heâs a man starving in the middle of the desert.
âSweetheart,â mutters Wriothesley, trying to get Neuvillette to pause. âHey, heyââ
âSo strong.â Neuvillette nips at his neck, just a playful tease. âWatching you out there, Iââ He moans, a sharp, deep sound that is a rarity. Neuvillette is typically far more reserved in this, but here, now, heâs a needy and wanton thing who pulls Wriothesley close to grind their hips together.
Neuvillette is hard. He ruts against Wriothesley hard, his grip on Wriothesleyâs hips biting.Â
Wriothesley looses tittering laughter. âAre you all worked up?â He knows that Neuvillette is to have whisked them away so readily. âI thought so. I saw you practically fucking me with your eyes out there.â
Neuvillette growls softly at that, reminding Wriothesley just how inhuman he is. But Wriothesley loves it, wants to draw more of that out. He smirks, dipping close, biting at the edge of Neuvilletteâs mouth.Â
âThey all saw it, sweetheart. Whatâs the Sovereign going to do, staring at his mate so openly?â
âThe Sovereign?â questions Neuvillette, his demeanor chilling ever so slightly. His touch eases, trailing up and down Wriothesleyâs sides.Â
A few seconds pass before Wriothesley realizes what it is that he wants. Heat drops into his stomach, his groin, and everything flares to life. ThisâWriothesley loves this, loves him. âMy Sovereign,â he corrects. âWhat do you want? For me to suck you off?â
âI want to wrestle you,â says Neuvillette instead.Â
Wriothesley stills at that. The moment doesnât die, but it does become confusing, and Wriothesley canât help but pull back with a furrowed brow. âEr, come again?â
Neuvillette offers him a soft chuckle. He leans forward, invading his space again, and elaborates with, âYou were so strong out there, Wriothesley. A worthy partner. Did you know that dragons enjoy wrestling their mates? Weâve never done this, you and I, nor have I ever cared to. But todayâŠâ He hums softly, eyes fluttering closed before pressing his nose to Wriothesleyâs temple. âYou smelled like sin. Powerful. Divine. My instincts are begging for me to claim you, beloved.â
Wriothesley is into that. Oh, he is so very into that. His cock twitches to full hardness at the mere thought. But alsoâ âAnd if I win?â
Neuvillette reels back and cups his chin. âYou?â he purrs. âWin?â
So, itâd be a lie for Wriothesley to say that tone didnât do something to him. Heat sinks into his gut, settling there, thick and heady. Neuvillette isnât being mean, heâs just stating a fact, and even if Wriothesley thought heâd have an edge, he cannot possibly compare to the power of a Sovereign.
But to wrestle, to push and pull at each other, if only for the fun of it⊠Wriothesleyâs mouth curls into a smirk, and he says, âSounds like a challengeâthe kind of challenge you know that I like. Go on, then.â
Neuvillette moves immediately, grabbing hold of Wriothesley, and tossing him onto the bed. The frame creaks underneath their combined weight, Neuvillette settling over him. Wriothesley pushes, throwing his weight against him for a topple, but Neuvillette holds firm.Â
âBeloved,â he says, fingers grazing Wriothesleyâs sides, âare you even trying?â
Fight swells in Wriothesley. He knows he wonât win, but he can try. He grunts, tossing everything he has into his next grapple. Hands against wrists, legs around Neuvilletteâs waistâWriothesley manages to twist him onto his back.Â
But Neuvillette is strongâso fucking strongâand Wriothesley often forgets that because heâs usually so soft-handed. It lasts about a moment before Wriothesley is tossed aside once more. He squirms and manages to free himself from Neuvilletteâs grasp.Â
Too slow. Wriothesley always thought he was quick until Neuvillette proved him wrong with his serene, slick grace. Neuvillette launches across the bed in a fluid movement, hands hooking around Wriothesleyâs hips. He yanks him back. Settles against the swell of Wriothesleyâs ass, grinding against it.Â
Wriothesley moans, pressing back against him. He throws a glance over his shoulder and says, âYou like this, donât you? Tossing me around?â
âThere is an undeniable interest in the way you react.â Neuvillette hisses, rolling his hips against him a second time. But then he lets go, pulling away. âAgain.â
So they go at each other again, and again, and again. Wriothesley winds up on his back with Neuvillette astride his waist, leaning over to nip at his neck. On his side, Neuvilletteâs calves locked around Wriothesley in a tight leg lock. Neuvillette touches him slowly, hands wandering over the bulge of Wriothesleyâs muscles to trace them.Â
Wriothesley moans, jerking, but oh, he loves this, Neuvillette giving in to his power and instincts. âSweetheart, please.â
âAgain,â says Neuvillette, nipping at his jaw, his throat.Â
Fuck, thatâs hot. Wriothesley whines, holding his face there by the back of the neck. âWhat do youâNeuvillette? What do you like about this?â
Neuvillette trills against his skin, mouthing at it, sucking a bruise at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Itâs too hot. Neuvilletteâs only managed to pull off his shirt and belt so far, and Wriothesleyâs trousers are too tight against his aching cock. The manhandling, the weight of his mate against him, all of it is nearly too much for him. Neuvillette bites, those fangs sinking into his skin, dragging a deep groan from Wriothesleyâs mouth. Heâs hard too, rutting against him, the bulge in his clothing too large to be just one problem.Â
âBoth?âÂ
âIâWriothesley.â Neuvilletteâs hands find him again, claws digging into the supple skin of his sides. He twists him, throwing Wriothesley onto his front until heâs face-first in the mattress.Â
A hand drags down the length of his spine, thumbing over every notch. He pulls at Wriothesleyâs trousers, yanking them down roughly without even undoing them. Wriothesley is thankful theyâre loose enough, that theyâre able to slide off without much issue. Theyâre tossed to the side unceremoniously, leaving his backside entirely exposed.Â
Heâs so hard. Wriothesley. His cock hangs beneath him, hard and heavy, and Neuvillette stares, unable to look away, brushing his knuckles across his swollen balls.Â
The mattress shifts under Neuvilletteâs weight. He presses his chest against Wriothesleyâs back, his mouth falling next to his ear. âBeloved,â he murmurs, âcan you feel what you do to me?â
Yes, yes. Neuvillette grinds both of his cocks against the cleft of Wriothesleyâs ass. Wriothesleyâs mouth goes dry at the weight of those cocks, at the promise of getting well fucked because Neuvillette is in a rare mood. He needs it, all keyed up and hot; rolls his hips back against Neuvillette with a slow, sensual grind.
âPerfect.â Neuvillette presses his nose against Wriothesleyâs temple and inhales deeply. âYou were perfect, out there. So strong, so handsome. No one else could compare and you beat them all. Such a worthy mate.â
âNeuvilletteââ
âBut in these sheets,â continues Neuvillette, kissing the shell of his ears, âyou are mine, heeling for me alone. For all of your bark, there is no bite, not in the same way I offer.â Fangs pull at Wriothesleyâs earlobe wickedly.Â
âFuck,â curses Wriothesley. He needs that, needs more. Whatever Neuvillette wants to give him, whatever heâs willing to offer up.Â
âCan you be good for me, sweet boy?â
Wriothesley nods and lets loose a soft, keening sound thatâs lost in the silk sheets.
Neuvilletteâs palm sinks into the space between his shoulder blades, heavy as it presses him into the bed. Chest down. Ass up. Wriothesley whines when Neuvillette pulls away, leaving him bereft.Â
âWaitââ
âShh,â soothes Neuvillette, a hand falling against the small of his back. âYouâve been so good for me. You put up such a wonderful fight. Iâm so, so pleased.â
Thatâs, thatâsâThe praise sinks into Wriothesley's skin. Trickles down into his gut where itâs a kernel of heat about to blaze into a fire. âSweetheart.â His voice is heavy and thick.Â
Neuvilletteâs thumb pets the knob of spine it rests against, tracing circles around it. âWe arenât done,â he murmurs. His other hand drags down Wriothesleyâs sides, the tips of his claws raising pink marks. âWeâre just barely beginning. This is wrestling too, isnât it? The way that I wrestle with myself to keep from fucking you into the mattress.â
His words are teasing, lilting. Amused. âStay,â he demands, the weight of his hand against Wriothesleyâs back turning sharp as he leans into it. âJust like that. Be good for me.â
Yes, yes, he will. He hates the space between them, though, keening softly when Neuvillette pulls away entirely. Wriothesley hears the clatter of his trousers as Neuvillette undoes the fastenings. The rustle of fabric as he slips them off, tossing them to the side. His shirt is next, sliding across his skin. Wriothesley wishes he could look but heâs good, heâs so good.Â
He jumps when Neuvilletteâs hand falls against his ass, giving it a squeeze. Then he dips close, leaning over to press a kiss against it. A graze of Neuvilletteâs teeth is all that he gets before they sink into the soft muscle like a knife through butter.
Wriothesley curses. âFuck, fuckââ
Neuvillette licks at the bite mark, suckling at the skin to soothe it. âPretty thing,â he murmurs, biting at him again in a different spot. Wriothesley cannot wait to see those marks later, to relish in the purple bruises, for Neuvillette to trace them idly with his fingertips later on. âLaid out, like a feast, just for me.â
âPlease,â he moans. âSweetheart, I needââ
âMore, no doubt. Mmhn, yes I know. I can smell your desire. I smelled your desire all the way back in the square. Did you enjoy showing off for me?â
âYes.â
âAs I thought.â Neuvilletteâs tongue is wet and cold against his ass. âDelicious,â he mutters, licking a stripe from Wriothesleyâs balls, through the seam of his crack.Â
But then he pulls away. And Wriothesley is left aching and emptyâfar too empty.Â
âSpread them, please,â requests Neuvillette politely, reaching up to pull Wriothesleyâs arm behind him until his hand rests against his ass. âHold yourself open for me.â
Wriothesley shifts, grabbing at himself with both hands until heâs on his chest, and his neck resting awkwardly against a pillow. Heâs comfortable enough to manage. Besides, the way that Neuvillette stares at him like a man starving is well worth any discomfort.
A thumb drags over Wriothesleyâs hole, petting it. âLook at you,â purrs Neuvillette.Â
âThen show me,â says Neuvillette, âjust like you showed off for me earlier. Beloved, open yourself up for me.â
Oh. Oh. Wriothesley licks at his lips and tosses a glance over his shoulder. Neuvilletteâs gaze is hot, heady. His palm is slick with Hydro, and he drips it onto Wriothesleyâs hole.
âOkay.â Wriothesley sweeps his fingers through the wetness. âYeah, okay, I can do that.â He presses in not one, but two, and sucks in a sharp breath. The quicker he can do this, the quicker Neuvillette can fuck himâ
Neuvillette said that he realizes. He said the word fucking, and that does things to Wriothesley, so he shoves his fingers in as deep as theyâll go, bullying his rim until it's soft and pliant.
A sharp gaze watches him, pale irises practically glowing in the low lamplight. Wriothesley spreads his fingers and hole wide, and Neuvilletteâs mouth parts in reaction. His forked tongue traces the length of his bottom lip. Thinking untoward things, no doubt.Â
Wriothesley smiles. âNeuvillette.â
Neuvillette meets his face with a smoldering look that sets Wriothesleyâs insides on fire. He has both cocks out tonight, unable to hold full control over his form, and strokes one idly as the other rests against his thigh, fully erect. âWriothesley,â he replies.Â
âYou going to fuck me with both?â
âIââ All of Neuvilletteâs bravado wavers away, concern pinching his brow. âI wasnât planning onââ
âYou better,â cuts in Wriothesley. âI beat others up just to show you that I can. Then you wrestled me in these sheets, leaving me all hot and bothered. You canât pull out both and not fuck me both.â
âWriothesley.âÂ
He shoves a third finger into himself and lets loose a long, drawn out moan. Itâs a tight squeeze, but fuck it feels good. Wriothesley drills his fingers into himself, fucking his ass open. âSweetheart,â he mutters, âare you going to take your prize?â
Neuvilletteâs gaze sharpens. âYouâyou.â His thumb traces the slick rim of Wriothesleyâs hole. âYou want both,â he murmurs, not a question, but an observation, an expectation. That thumb sinks in beside Wriothesleyâs three fingers, and gods above, itâs a lot.Â
A gentle tug. A soft trilling sound as Neuvillette praises him for how easily he opens up. âWhat a good mate,â he says, slotting close, taking the longer, thicker of his cocks and pulling the tip across the swell of round of Wriothesleyâs backside. A wet trail is left in its wake, chilling in the air.Â
âI donât want it slow.â Wriothesley is full, four fingers deep, and he still wants more. Hard and fast. Unrelenting. âBaby, please.â
âNeedy,â chides Neuvillette with a click of his tongue. âWhat happened to my powerful mate?â
âHe needs you. Neuvillette. Do you know how hard my dick was out there in the ring?â Enough so to be distracting.Â
Neuvilletteâs mouth curls into a sinful grin, and that thumb hooked inside Wriothesley drags through his slick, hot heat, dripping more Hydro directly inside. âI told you I smelled it. There is so little that you can hide from me.âÂ
He pulls out his thumb, and then Wriothesleyâs fingers, his hole clenching around nothing. âBoth,â Neuvillette muses then, slicking his ovipositor first. âSo both you shall get.â
Neuvillette enters Wriothesley with a sharp, hard thrust. That spade-shaped tip helps ease the way, but Wriothesley is so suddenly full that he cries out, fingers curling tightly into the sheets. Hot and heavy. Thick and long. Neuvillette is already pulling out and fucking back in before Wriothesleyâs brain can even catch up with the sensation.Â
Fucking you into the mattress, heâd threatened. Wriothesley moans, trapped between him and the sheets, his cock dripping a mess all over them. There will be complaints later when Neuvillette notices, but heâs too lost in the moment, in the tight heat of Wriothesleyâs ass.Â
âMine,â he hisses, his cock pounding into Wriothesleyâs prostate.
It wonât take much more. Wriothesley was almost there before and is nearly to the end right now, his cock aching for releaseâbut he doesnât touch himself. He reaches back and holds himself open, and Neuvillette drives his cock into him hard and fast.Â
His other cock, the smaller, human-shaped one meant to expel semen, rests against the cleft of his crack. Slides against his skin, wetter and slicker with every deep grind. Not enough. Itâs not enough. Wriothesley needs more, needs that other cock inside him too.Â
âFull, butââ
âMate.â Neuvillette breathes the word, derailing any rational thought that Wriothesley may have had. âBeloved, you feel perfect. So tight, so, soââ The praises drips from his mouth and warms Wriothesleyâs being.Â
âThe other. Neuvillette please. I need it. I need more, harderâsomething.â
Neuvilletteâs next thrust is harder than the rest, his thighs smacking against Wriothesleyâs ass with a sharp sound. And then he slows to a deep, languid crawl that carves through Wriothesleyâs insides. âWhat a fighter,â he says, stroking his other cock, slicking it up with a palm of Hydro. âSo powerful and yet here, you are on your knees begging for both of my cocks.â
This sort of dirty talk is a rare thing so Wriothesley drinks it up. He moans, wriggling his hips, fucking back onto Neuvilletteâs dick.Â
âBe still.â A harsh command that comes with a hand against the small of Wriothesleyâs back.
Wriothesley stills with a whine.
âPerfection,â says Neuvillette then, his thumb tracing his rim where itâs stretched smooth around his length. It dips in alongside it, and it stings so good. Wriothesley needs more. He needsâ âI know, beloved.âÂ
He pulls out, leaving a raw, gaping hole in Wriothesleyâs being. But then both of his cocks are pressed against him, and Wriothesley falls right back into the trap of his need.
Neuvillette is kinder as he eases both in, slower with his movements, unwilling to hurt him. But those cocks sink in easily. They slip right to the root, fully sheathed inside of him. Wriothesley lets out a broken cry as he goes lax in the sheets, overcome by the fullness, the thickness of both of Neuvilletteâs cocks.Â
He leans closer, chest to Wriothesleyâs back. That angle changes. Grinds deepâso deep that Wriothesley is seeing stars. Feels it in this throat and wonders if he can choke on it.Â
Already, Neuvilletteâs cocks are twitching. An arm snakes around Wriothesleyâs front, tilting him just so, hand moving to rest against his stomach. Neuvillette gives experimental thrust that leaves Wriothesley loose-limbed in the bed. Toes curling. Crying out an unintelligible version of his name.Â
And Neuvillette is so gone, so hopelessly lost in his mate. He praises him, mouth pressed against Wriothesleyâs ear as he pins him to the bed. Itâs a slow, sensual grind of his cocks, heavy-hitting ruts that set Wriothesleyâs blood boiling. His pleasure is like flash fire, quickly consuming, as bright as the sky. Wriothesley tries to meet those thrusts, tries to force Neuvilletteâs cocks deep with every down stroke. Â
âYou thought youâd win,â muses Neuvillette with sinful words. âYou thought you could wrestle me and come out on top.â
âHave I not?â Wriothesleyâs words are sharp, the tail end of them bitten off by a moan as Neuvilletteâs cocks rattle him to the bone. âYouâre the one unable to hold back. Both of your dicks? Sweetheart, your form was crumbling at the sight of me. You canât help yourself.â
Neuvillette nips at the shell of his ear and delivers a swifter thrust, one that leaves the both of them reeling. But he doesnât deny it because Wriothesley is rightâNeuvilletteâs already close to the edge, shaking and tense against his back as an orgasm threatens to drag him under.Â
âMate.â Neuvillette drops his face, nuzzling at Wriothesleyâs neck. âMine. But you are right, you are nothing but a terrible temptation, and I love you for it.â
Wriothesley swallows around the lump in his throat. Heâs so full of everything; Neuvilletteâs praise, his love, his dicks.
âCan you come from this alone?â
Wriothesley can. Heâs so close, so near to the end already, he wouldnât even need to grind against the sheets. âYes, yes.â
âThen perhaps I do win,â murmurs Neuvillette, âif I can bring you to completion with only my cocks.â
Heâll let him have that. âJustâthere. Fuck, just like that, sweetheart.âÂ
Wriothesley shudders as Neuvilletteâs fucks into him again with a sharp snap of his hips. Heat burns through him, welling up. He clings to the sheets, pulling at the silk with his fingers. Itâs almost too much, being so full. Neuvillette whispering praise into his ear, the harsh slap of their skin, and Neuvilletteâs hand petting the space underneath his navel.Â
âI can feel myself here,â he tells Wriothesley, dragging circles over the bulge there. âYouâre so full of my cocks, taking me so well. Be that I could, Iâd breed you properly.â
Oh. Oh. Neuvilletteâs gone. Wriothesley gasps at that, gasps at the promise of other terribly sordid things murmured against his temple. Neuvillette has a way with saying such filth when he tries, and it leaves Wriothesley reeling, and his cock so hard itâs beyond aching, itâs painful.
He fucks back against Neuvillette. Those dangerous cocks sink in to the root, catching his prostate, and Wriothesley comes with a shout. Suddenly. Quickly. He spills all over the sheets in spurts, grinding back onto Neuvilletteâs lengths as everything goes numb.
Only the pleasureâthatâs all he feels. Neuvilletteâs hand against his stomach, and his chest against his back. âJust like that,â he says, kissing WRiothesleyâs sweaty temple. âSo tight, soâjust like that. Good boy.â
One more thrust, and then another has Neuvillette coming with the smaller, more human cock. His spends inside Wriothesley, flooding his insides. Another few, sharp thrusts, and he groans, his other cock coming as well, thicker, tackier, more viscous.Â
All of it wet. Thick. Full, heâs so full.
Wriothesley melts in the sheets, moaning in his overstimulation. Pleasure still rips through him, guiding by the slow, easy grinding of Neuvilletteâs still half-hard cock.Â
âPerfect.â Neuvillette is still plastered against his back, his chest rumbling with pleasure. âWonderful, boy. I love you.â
âIâyeah. That.â Wriothesley finds that itâs hard to speak, that his throat is dry, and the words get lodged in his mouth.
Neuvillette laughs. âWe both win,â he teases. âThere is nothing wrong with compromise. Did you enjoy it?â
Gods yes. Neuvillette wrestling him around and about, the weight of his being shoving Wriothesley into the mattress? Again, please. Maybe heâll ask later. For now, Wriothesleyâs limbs are nothing but jelly, well fucked and blissed out.Â
âMhmn, yeah.â
Neuvillette soaks up the closeness, the feel of him for a moment before pulling back. A hand smooths down WRiothesleyâs back, rubbing out the strain in his muscles. Squeezes his ass and spreads his cheeks for a long, lustful look. A thumb traces Wriothesleyâs rim before slowly pulling out.Â
Another purr at the sight of Wriothesleyâs wrecked hole, Neuvilletteâs come spilling out. Itâs scooped up and pressed back in, two of his fingers sliding into Wriothesleyâs guts.Â
âDivine,â he says, teasing Wriothesleyâs swollen prostate, but eases up when Wriothesley looses a soft whine of discomfort. âAh. Alright, beloved, I hear you.â
Wriothesley groans in the sheets, but smiles. Neuvillette is so good at reading him. He retreats gently, this time manhandling Wriothesley over onto his back with care.Â
He melts into the sheets. Neuvillette slides close, pressing against his side, face tucked into the crook of Wriothesleyâs neck. He rubs against him, scenting him, relishing the aftermath of their lovemaking with wandering hands, and licks from that rough, forked tongue.Â
âNeuvillette. Sweetheart.â
âMate,â replies Neuvillette, brushing back his bangs. âPerhaps we should play-fight more often.â
âYes,â comes Wriothesleyâs immediate reply.Â
Neuvillette snorts. âAs expected.â A pause as he pets down Wriothesleyâs sternum. âA bath?â
A bath sounds wonderful. Wriothesley tilts towards him, catching Neuvilletteâs mouth in a sweet, soft kiss. âYouâll have to carry me there. I donât think I can walk.â
He aches, a dull throb pinching the spot right at the base of his spine, but itâs a good ache, one that just makes him think of Neuvillette, and how fucking good he is to him. Others wouldnât have indulged. Others wouldnât have been so taken by his brazen display, or given into his demands. A cute game, one theyâll have to play again even if Wriothesley will lose every time.
But, maybe thereâs truth to his words, that they both win this fight, that itâs nothing but a draw in the end where they wind up sweat-slick, and with the sheets drowning in come.Â
Neuvillette hums softly. The bed dips underneath him as he moves, and Wriothesley scoops him up as if he weighs nothing.Â
âWoooow,â teases Wriothesley, wrapping his arms around Neuvilletteâs neck as heâs carried down the hall. âSo strong. My hero.â
Neuvilletteâs response is to dump him into the freezing-cold water, which, Wriothesley supposes, he asked for.
It isnât as though Neuvillette hasnât praised Wriothesley before.Â
He does it in the same way as others. A well-placed, âThis tea is delicious,â or, âYour last budget report was well formed,â tends to go a long way. Wriothesley always responds well with a crooked grin pulling across his face. It is attractive. That grin. Itâs the sort of expression that relaxes him, softens those rough-cut edges that heâs adopted over his long years.Â
âThis tea,âsaid Neuvillette earlier that day, sipping his cup politely. âI am not one for it but it seems to be delightful when brewed by your capable hands. Good job, Wriothesley.â
Wriothesley isnât a child, Neuvillette reminds himself. Younger, yes, but not young, and so at first something like praise seems as though it may be childish. But then he noticed that Wriothesley leaned into it, red from the tips of his ears to those damnable collarbones on display underneath his open collar.Â
Heâd been slacked-jawed, mouth falling open in surprise. Then heâd rubbed at his neck and laughed it off nervously, but he liked itâthe praise. It did not go unnoticed by Neuvilletteâs keen eyes. So heâd sipped that tea, watching Wriothesley for the rest of their short meeting.Â
An idea, heâd thought. I have an idea.
Which led to where they are now, Wriothesley underneath him in his bed with Neuvillette sitting astride.Â
This is a common occurrence as of late. Neuvillette has lost count of the times theyâve fallen into the sheets together now that feelings have been laid bare. The kissing started it; Neuvillette is a greedy, greedy creature. The sight of Wriothesley prone underneath him, sweaty, pink-faced, begging for more is almost too much to bear.Â
How can he not crave this? How can he not reward him? And so the idea thatâs wormed his brain since their tea break earlier that day: Neuvillette leans forward slightly, hair falling over his shoulder in a silvery curtain. âWriothesley,â he says, rolling his hips, grinding against Wriothesley's thick cock. âYou feel good.â
Because he does. The drag of Wriothesley's length through his insides is something that Neuvillette now dreams of. He thinks about it in the quiet hours. In the showers. He wakes up to the thought of it, his cock hard and dripping in the sheets, bereft that Wriothesley rarely stays over in his den.Â
Wriothesley should know. Wriothesley does know, heâs teased Neuvillette enough when heâs in the proper mood. Perhaps it is teasing backâno, no. Neuvillette wants to see that same look that creased his face, that expression of embarrassed adoration that warmed Neuvilletteâs bones.Â
âBeloved, you fill me so well. It feels good.â
âIââ Wriothesley chokes off whatever he says. That look on his face; the mild embarrassment, the affection, the way that his skin creases around his eyes and mouthâNeuvillette swallows it up.Â
Itâs easy to move like this, overtop him. Wriothesley holds Neuvillette by the hips, guiding him, and together they rise and fall like the ocean waters outside.Â
âYou,â says Wriothesley then. âItâs you. You should see yourselfââ
âI am talking about you,â cuts in Neuvillette, stilling his hips until Wriothesley's cock is lodged deep, twitching in his ass. âThis isnât about me.â
âNeuvilletteââ
âNo mocking words? No absurd pet names?â
âSweetheart.â
Oh, he sounds gone. Neuvillette is close enough that when he laughs, his breath fans over Wriothesley's face. He tips his chin up and gives him a sweet, lingering kiss. âNever another, as you know. You please me in a way that no one else has, or will.â
Wriothesley's fingers tighten against him in a bruising grip against Neuvilletteâs hips, spurring him on.Â
âWhat a sight,â purrs Neuvillette. His chest rumbles, hot with pleasure. A gentle roll of his hips leaves Wriothesley groaning in the sheets as he clings to him. âBig. Thick. You fill me in all the right places.â
âIâmâNeuvillette.â
âBut not just that, beloved. You trust me, trust me to have you this way, to lay underneath me and let me ride you. You are not afraid of my⊠uniqueness.â Neuvillette leans back then, moaning as Wriothesley's cock slides through him with the change of angle. Drags a hand down his front, his belly. Fingers across the length of his blue-tinged cock.Â
Wriothesley looks, gaze washing over him before locking onto his vent, and the slick cock that protrudes from it.Â
Heâd worried at first. Neuvillette is not human but Wriothesley does not care. He strokes his cock the same, swallows his cock the same, and avoids his vent at Neuvilletteâs request with tender sweetness. He opens his ass up on thick, calloused fingers, and then fucks him into the bed until he canât think, and Neuvillette loves that.Â
âYeah.â Wriothesley's voice is punched, hoarse. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he looks at Neuvillette as if thereâs nothing else. They are the only two in the room, and Neuvillette does not just think, he knows that this is the sort of love he thought itâd be that first time theyâd kissed, fifteen years too late.Â
âYou unmake me.â Neuvillette is not an unfeeling man, nor is he unsentimental, but rarely is he so free with his words in this way. Wriothesley is caught by the admission, his expression rapturous. âYou unmake me, Wriothesley, and then you put me back together. These handsââ Neuvillette drags his fingers across the back of Wriothesley's palm, down the length of his knuckles. ââare the hands of not just a worker, but a master of his craft. You tinker, Wriothesley, yes, but with these hands, you pull me apart and remold me.â
âNeuvillette.â This utterance of his name is unlike any other. Itâs heated, and rushed, and it falls from Wriothesley's lips and stings the both of them, charged in a way that Neuvillette wasnât aware was possible. Wriothesley's grip loosens. He thumbs over his hip bones with a soothing touch, letting Neuvilllette know that he hears him.Â
They donât push at each other, they pull. They pull and pull and pull, and Neuvillette goes so willingly.Â
âMore,â he says, dragging himself along the length of Wriothesley's cock. âMore of that, of your cock, of your everything. I want it all.â
âYes, yes.â
The desperation is delicious. Neuvillette watches him through a narrowly slit gaze, a hand pressed against Wriothesley's chest. He holds him there against the bed, the pressure against his sternum just enough to weigh him down. Neuvillette is so much stronger. One second, one slip of his weight, and heâd crush him. Yet, Wriothesley doesnât tense, he doesnât flinch; he watches him as if Neuvillette hung the moon and stars, and heâs never known a love like this.Â
Perhaps he hasnât. Wriothesley is not a man who has known kindness in his past. Neuvillette craves giving that to him, and he craves taking it too. Wriothesley is nothing but patient; not new to feelings but their relationship is still shiny, still chromed over, that hasnât been weathered by time and experience.Â
Neuvillette wants to be together for so long that their love rusts, not from age, but from the years dragging along where they get to share tea in the morning, and stolen kisses during office hours.Â
âPerfect,â he says. âSo utterly perfect for me.â
âCan I touch your cock?â Oh, heâs asked him. Of course, he can, but Wriothesley is, if any, polite. âNeuvillette, baby, I wantââ
Neuvillette pulls one of Wriothesley's hands to his length, curling his fingers around it. Just like that, he moves, sweeping those calloused, rough fingers up and down Neuvilletteâs cock, thumbing over the spade-shaped tip, at the thick precome, murmuring how he loves that it glows softly.Â
âYou know what I like,â he praises. âExactly what to do, how to touch me. Always so goodââ
âIf you keep doing that, Iâm going toâŠâ
âDo what, Wriothesley?â Wriothesley crumples at those words, underneath Neuvilletteâs gaze. Neuvillette chuckles softly, sweeping a hand down the expanse of his chest, chasing his nipples, scars, the sharp angles of his abs. âBeloved, you can say it.â
He doesnât, he canât. Wriothesley bites at his lip and moans, clinging to Neuvilletteâs hips and cock.Â
âYou love the praise, donât you?â Cruel, wicked words, but Neuvillette is in the mood to tease, and so he does.Â
âFuck,â hisses Wriothesley. His hips jerk, driving his cock deeper. âFuck, thatâs, youâreââ Another keening moan as he arches, backing bowing so prettily in the silk sheets.Â
âLet me lavish you,â Neuvillette tells him. âYou feel good. You fill me perfectly, long and thick. I find myself thinking of your cock, ever distracted from my work.â
âNeuvilletteââ
âAnd when Iâm aloneââ Neuvilletteâs voice drops to a husky murmur, heated, lax, full of awe and adoration. ââI take myself into my hand, and I think of you. I am always thinking of you.â
That does it, he thinks. Wriothesley lets loose a sound heâs never heard before; itâs deep and yearning, a strangled gasp of his name. He thrusts up against him. Pulls at Neuvillettâs cock. His cock slides through Neuvilletteâs insides, to his core, and he comes abruptly.Â
There is little fanfare. Wriothesley sighs, sweat beading along his brow. âSweetheart,â he says, still stroking Neuvilletteâs cock, throwing tinder into the fire that fills his gut. âCome for me, please. I need to see. I want to see it, to feel you.â
âYes,â hisses Neuvillette, fucking into the tight grip of his palm. Back onto his half-hard, softening cock. He clings to Wriothesley, rising and falling against him, delighting in those sounds, that look on his face, those sweet, sweet words whispered into the air between them.
And then Neuvillette is coming too, spilling wet against Wriothesley's palm. âSovereigns,â says Wriothesley, remembering that there is to be no mention of Archons in Neuivilletteâs bed. âCome here, come here.â
Wriothesley pulls him close, his free hand curled around the back of Neuvilletteâs neck, fingers curled into his sweaty hair. He doesnât kiss him, he just presses their foreheads together. He breathes deep, in and out, grounding himself, themselves, relishing this moment that theyâve shared. And then he bites at him, turning his face into Neuvilletteâs neck, sinking his teeth into soft, pale flesh.
Like that. Just like that. Yes, yesâÂ
His baser instincts are something to behold. Neuvillette purrs as Wriothesley mouths at his neck, soaking in their shared high. Wriothesley has broken down and loosened so much that he now has to pick up the pieces. âBeloved,â he says, cupping Wriothesley's cheeks, his chin. He noses at him, scenting him, mouthing at his lips sweetly. âI do not want you to leave.â
No, no, he belongs here in his den. Wriothesley. Hisâ
Neuvillette does not think of that word but he feels it, his chest yearning.Â
Wriothesley nods against him. âYeah, Iâokay. Yes. Okay.â He pets Neuvilletteâs hair as he winds down. And then, a little while later, he curses softly. âThat wasâshit.â
âMhmn, a glowing endorsement.â
âNo, Iââ Wriothesley has the decency to look embarrassed at least. He shifts, his cock falling free from Neuvilletteâs ass. âI didnât mean it like that.â
âI know,â promises Neuvillette. He still lays over him, bracing his weight against Wriothesley's broad chest. Warm, heâs so warm, and this moment feels soft, rose-tinted at the edges.Â
âThat, thoughâŠâ Wriothesley is still pink-faced. He licks at his lips, thinking about it. âI rarely see you so bold.â
Neuvillette gives him a slitted gaze. âIs that a complaint?â
âNo.â The word comes as a heated rush. âI liked it. Obviously. IâShit, Iâm not usually so⊠I like you doing that. TheâŠâ
âI wasnât aware you had a praise kink until recently.â
Wriothesley groans, dragging a hand down his face. âDonât say it like that.â
His embarrassment is endearing. Wriothesley is usually so put together, effortlessly so. He knows what he wants and though he is patient, and though he is prone to waiting decades to get what he wants, for him to be so bashful about something so simple is a keen reminder that he is, in fact, human. Neuvillette dips close and kisses the tip of his nose.
âThatâs the sort of thing I do.â
âYes. Is it not the sort of thing a partner does? Adopting the tendencies of others? With your newfound love of praiseââ
âOh, so youâre telling on yourself now?â
Neuvillette peels back with a wry grin. âI have never made such a thing a secret. To have you on the opposite end of it thoughâŠâ
Wriothesley's expression softens. âThe vulnerability of it⊠Yeah, it'sââ Neuvillette makes no comment about how suddenly tongue-tied he is. âLetâs just lay here, please. I want to just⊠rest. With you. And Iâll stay. Over, I mean.â
Neuvillette reaches up to pet his fingers through Wriothesley's coarse hair, claws scratching against his scalp. A soft moan as Wriothesley relaxes against the sheets. And then, another tease as he says, âGood boy.â
-- Yae holds the novel between long fingers, tutting softly as she turns a page and reads a few lines.Â
âNot bad,â she murmurs, dragging a nail down the freshly bound page, âbut too formal and structured. The prose is well-fashioned, but it lacks inspiration, entirely dry.â
Gorou blinks at her, his arms wrapped tightly around a thick-bound folder of work-related notes. He swallows nervously. âAh, well, that is to say, people find her work popular?â
âOf that, I have no doubt.â Yae chuckles, slamming the book shut. âThose in the general public are entitled to their wrong opinion.â
âI wouldnât say that itâs wrongââ
âNow, now, are you siding with her?â
Gorou grimaces. âNo, of course not. I only meant to say that people have their preferences, and while there are those who like Miss Kokomiâs work, donât forget that you are just as popular.â
âMore popular,â corrects Yae not so politely. âBut whoâs keeping track, right?â She laughs then, dropping the book to the table. âOh, donât look so terrified. Itâs all in good fun. I truly donât care if her work sells or not, Iâm just surprised that she has gained such popularity. Thatâs all.â
âDifferent strokes, I guess,â says Gorou, easing up a bit as he rubs at his chin. âI read her newest novel and itâsââ
Yaeâs sharp-eyed gaze lands on him, narrowed slightly. âYou did?â
âFor research purposes, I swear!âÂ
She grins then, delighting in the way that Gorou squirms. Heâs a good manager, but Yae finds perverse pleasure in teasing him every moment that she can. âSuch a good agent,â she croons, reaching out to tap his nose, âdoing research for me.â
âI am here to help. Thatâs my job.âÂ
âYour efforts havenât gone unnoticed.â A pause, then, her eyes flickering back to the book where it sits on the table. âYou read further than I. Tell me more. I find myself curious.â
âWell, youâre right, her prose is a little structured, comparativelyââ Yae smiles at that. ââbut her characters are well built, and itâs easy to connect with them. Her prose is more purple and very descriptive, so even with it being so formal, itâs truly immersive in a way thatâs a little different.â
Yae frowns, then. âAnd so, youâre a fan now?â
âEh?â Gorou looks panicked. âI meanââ
âI kid, I kid. Youâre allowed to like this droll, just as anyone else. In fact, it might prove useful to me in the end. You can describe to me exactly what sheâs putting out.â
Gorouâs brow furrows at that. âItâs⊠not entirely a competition, you know.â
âMy little pup,â she says, mouth curling around the nickname he hates. âWe both write romance which means that we are rivals. I should study her, no?â
Gorou doesnât disagree which means sheâs won the argument this time around. As she should. Yae isnât the type to give in so easily. Kokomi is coming for her well-earned crown at the top of the best sellerâs list, which means that Yae has her work cut out for her.Â
She smirks at the thought, tapping her fingers against the book as she plans.
xxx
Kokomi has always held a middling position on the list of sellers when it comes to her work.Â
It suited her just fine, taking a seat towards the back. She made enough money to be comfortable, eyes wandering over her instead of staring the moment she stepped into the room. Book signings and the like were always quiet affairs, filled with only the most dedicated of her readers.Â
Quiet, quaint, and lovely.Â
And then she wrote Shogun in Love which propelled her to a level of popularity that she is still at odds with.Â
Kokomi stands there, staring at the entryway as though it is about to swallow her up. In her arms is her book, squeezed so tightly that sheâs lost the feeling in her elbows. She sighs, wondering if this is a good idea. It is, she thinks to herself. It must be.Â
âStalling out here wonât make your time inside any better.â Kaedehara Kazuha nudges her against the ribs with his elbow. âThis isnât like you. You love signings.â
âYes, when they were small. Kazuha, this event has been fully booked for months.â
âItâs not entirely you,â he says. âThere are other authors here, arguably larger. Perhaps youâll still slide on by.â
Kokomi levels him with a flat stare that leaves him laughing. âI didnât ask for this,â she says. âI didnât thinkââ
âI donât think any author thinks their work will catch on. Embrace your lucky break. I still have poetry books that are only dusty manuscripts years later.â Kokomi snorts at that. Kazuha gives her a gentle push. âIn you go. Donât dawdle. A lot of those people came here for you.â
She sighs softly, rubbing her brow. Kazuhaâs bookstore isnât usually the site of such grand affairs, but he knows people here and there, and managed to pull strings. Itâll be good for him, all these patrons. Itâs worth it, she thinks, if only for that.Â
âThis is mostly because Iâve known you forever,â she tells him. âOtherwise, Iâd go back home and sign copies over the internet.â
âAnd I wouldnât blame you if you did. Now off.â He gives her a gentle shove and this time she goes.Â
The walk to the door isnât as scary as it first seemed.Â
xxx
But the woman on the other side of the door is.Â
Kokomi might be quiet and keep to herself, but she doesnât live underneath a rock. She recognizes Yae Miko the moment they meet gazes. Yae looks her over, a soft sneer spread on her face. Friendly rivalry, Kokomi tells herself. Thatâs all it is.
Yae taps at her chin, that sneer turning into a smile that isnât very genuine. âWell, if it isnât the new queen of the best-seller list.â
âIâm no queen, just another author,â says Kokomi.
âHm, perhaps youâre right. You arenât quite to the top yet, but the bottom rung is still on the ladder, isnât it?â
Oh, sheâs a foul thing, isnât she? Kokomiâs heard the rumors, of course. Sheâs prepared herself for potential cattiness. Kokomi prides herself on being polite and keeping an air of professionalism, but she isnât about to let the dig go.Â
âAnd I wonder how it is, being at the top for so long? Do you remember what your fans look like, or have you lost touch with everyone that you deem too little to be worth your presence?â Kokomi laughs sweetly, smiling as she sinks her teeth in deeper. âYou might be more established, but it shows in your work. Youâve been writing for so long that it always seems so dull and uninspired.â
Yaeâs brows raise. âDull and uninspired? And what of yours? I couldnât tell if I was reading something written within the last century or not. Dragged on, didnât it?â
âAt least Iâve found my literary voice, no? Tell me, Yae Mikoâtruly, what an absurd pen nameâdo you even recall what it is like to write from the heart? Or are you so intent on churning out novel after novel that your prose feels all the same?â Kokomi laughs, smiling, all grins. âYou mock my work for feeling contrived, but at least it has a feel.â
Kokomi expects Yae to not take kindly to her words. To her surprise, though, Yae doesnât bite back. She tilts her head to the side and blinks slowly, her gaze washing from Kokomiâs head to her toes. âInteresting,â she finally says, tapping at her cheek. âI didnât expect you to bite back, even if it makes you sound like a yipping dog.â
Well then, thinks Kokomi. Yae Miko has just laid out a playing field thatâs quite tricky to navigate, but she has no idea that Kokomi isnât the sort of woman who gives up. Kokomi snorts, holding her head high as she shoots Yae a level stare.
âYes, well, even the kindest dog bites the hand which feeds it when being served poison.â
Gorouâs mouth drops, stunned. Kazuha, who stands beside Kokomi, shuffles slightly. The two agents share a quick glance, worried.Â
Yaeâs mouth twists into a grin that is not kind. She says, âWell, arenât you just a puerile thing?â
âIt seems as though reading a thesaurus has widened your vocabulary choice.â
âYae,â murmurs Gorou, leaning over and tugging on her sleeve, âthere is a point at which you should stop.â
Yae tuts, sighing softly. âSadly, heâs right. Iâm afraid that I must cut this chat short. I have places to be and books to signâwhich, I guess, youâll know how that feels sooner than later.â Her eyes narrow, as she regards Kokomi. âConsider this a challenge, however. We are now true rivals within the world of literature.â
âWell, what an honor.â She gives a mocking courtesy. âMay the best author win.â
xxx
The problem with declaring a rather public rivalry is that it can backfire.Â
Yae Miko is usually the sort who thinks her actions through, considering every angle. With Sangonomiya Kokomi, itâs as though Yae has lost all function. She thinks of the woman and that prim little smile of hers, and only sees shades of red.Â
The spat has cost Yae the spot at the top, Shogun in Love securing its title as the number-one best seller. Another notch in Kokomiâs belt, against all odds.Â
Gorou is rightfully wary. Yae is often in the worst sort of mood, prone to tossing things around haphazardly in a multitude of directions.Â
âIt isnât just her whoâs received a boost in sales,â he says, trying to ease her frustration.
âMy sales donât matter if Iâm not at the top!â She regrets her tone the moment the words fly from her mouth. As annoying as Gorou can be at times, heâs a hard worker, and invaluable to her enterprise. Yae pinches her nose, takes a deep, and counts to three.Â
âWhy not use it as a rebrand?â
Yae pauses, turning to him. âIâm sorry?â
Gorou hesitates, choosing his words carefully. âShe wasnât⊠entirely wrong when she criticized your work. Reviews as of late have been mediocre. But perhaps you can use the rivalry to approach your work from a new angle.â
It is not a bad idea. No, actually, itâs a fantastic idea. Yae taps at her chin as she thinks and thinks. And then, she smiles.Â
xxx
âYou know, itâs pretty good.â Kazuha holds Yae Mikoâs new novel, eyes scanning the prose. âDefinitely different from what Iâve seen from her.â
âThis isâŠâ Kokomiâs brow furrows. âIs this satire?â
Kazuha laughs. âKnowing her? Yes, probably. Historical fiction certainly isnât her usual fare, and she isnât one to write something so serious.â He closes the book with a snap. âStill, the numbers are projected to do well. Itâs garnering her good reviews. âSheâs turned over a new leaf,â they say.â
âNot likely.â
âOf course, not. Sheâs clearly taking a jab at your most recent success.â Kazuha pulls out his phone to check something. âWhich, by the way, is on its twentieth consecutive week in the number one slot. Congratulations.â
Kokomi sighs, setting Yaeâs latest novel aside. âWhat an atrocity to the genre.â
âI have been talking to Gorouââ
Her eyes flash and she grins. âOh?â
âFor professional reasons, I assure you.â Kokomi pouts as Kazuha continues. âIt seems as though Yae is using your rivalry to her advantage.â
âAnd you think that I should as well?â Kokomiâs eyes narrow.Â
âIt isnât the worst idea.â
No, of course not, but Kokomi isnât sure that she can bring herself to write the same trite, cliched rom-coms that Yae Miko is so well-known for.Â
But, then again, perhaps a change of pace would be nice.
xxx
Kokomi pens That One Time I Got Lost in a Public Bath and Found the Gateway To Heaven over three days, and while it is not a hit in the way her previous novel was, it does garner the begrudging respect of Yae Miko who sings its praises publicly.Â
âTruly a fun one, if you are a fan of reverse harem comedies. Miss Sangonomiya seems to have found a rather witty voice when it comes to this particular genre.â
Time passes and they share more events. Their bickering and bantering melts from heated, scathing insults into a more light-hearted affair. Kokomi finds that she rather delights in their clever turns of phrase, one-upping each other when it comes to the teasing.Â
They share lunch. And dinner, even late-night drinks, much to the surprise of both Gorou and Kazuha. And then, at one event, they even share a booth, selling their best-selling novels side-by-side as bundled pairs.Â
âI will admit, Yae, as weâve grown to know each other, Iâve come to admire you.â
âOh?â Yae raises a brow, her head tilted to the side. âHow unexpected. I never expected you to bow down before me.â
Kokomiâs lips purse. âI would never,â she says curtly, âbut even I can admit when Iâve come to respect another, even if the sentiment is not returned.â
Yae laughs then, full-hearted. âKokomi, whoever said that I do not respect you?â
âYou did. Many times, in fact. So many, that itâs practically seared into my brainââ
Yae scoffs. âEmpty words,â she cuts in, waving a hand. âIf I had no respect, I would not be sharing this table with you. I would not be selling our books together. I would not have read your latest work, which, yes, could use a little more pizazz, butââ
Kokomi chuckles, a soft, snorting sort of laughter. âWhy does it sound as though you are trying to convince yourself?â
Yae falls uncharacteristically quiet, thinking. âI am not. But, itâs hard to admit defeat when the issue at hand had little warrant in the beginning. Loathe as I am to admit it⊠my first impression of you was not very sound.â
âAh. Jealousy can do that to a person.â
âI suppose that is true.â
It is strange, Yae Miko being truthful with her. Kokomi watches her carefully for any subtle signs of deceit but sees none. Yae looks rather pleasant, sitting there at their booth, watching Kokomi back. Unsettling, in the way that it causes Kokomiâs cheeks to pink. Her pulse races just slightly in the way that books like to describe.Â
Yae is pretty enough once one realizes that sheâs all bark and no bite. Kokomi realizes just how her heart lurches ever-so-slightly when she leans near.Â
Which is why, when Yae Miko kisses her later under the cover of the stars, Kokomi lets her.
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