Wriothesley trusts Neuvillette so much that he gives him permission to do as he wishes.

CW: Contains Smut.

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There is an agreement in place, one that Neuvillette doesn't often indulge in.

Do as you want, when you want. I love it all the same—that's what Wriothesley told him. Such an allowance may seem like little to most but Wriothesley does not trust others; he sits facing the exit of the room, sleeps with one eye open, and constantly watches those around him with a hawk-eyed gaze.

Except around Neuvillette. The implicit trust that Wriothesley has in him almost means more than anything else. One can love another and still have distrust. But Wriothesley— "I trust you," he'd said then, those words searing themselves into Neuvillette's heart. "So do as you want, when you want."

Rarely does the need arise in such a way. Neuvillette most enjoys a partner who is awake and responsive. Tonight, though, a need claws through him, hot and heady. A rut must be on the horizon. Neuvillette thought he had more time until the next but perhaps having a willing partner has ruined the supposed schedule.

Neuvillette awoke with his veins boiling. His instincts call for him to take his mate, to satiate that visceral need. And Wriothesley—oh, he'd be so willing and pliant. Neuvillette plasters himself against his back, nose shoved against the top of his spine. Delectable. Delicious.

It is the preface to his cycle; the desperation that crawls through Neuvillette's being can still be reined in, leashed tightly. But, but—

He doesn't have to. Wriothesley's words are omnipresent in his thoughts. He thinks of how well Wriothesley takes him, of the way their hearts beat together when their passion consumes them.

"Wriothesely," says Neuvillette, testing the waters. Wriothesley doesn't stir. His skin is hot underneath Neuvillette's palm where it's pressed flat underneath his navel, claws tracing the lines of muscle there. Neuvillette shifts, face tipping up as his mouth rests near Wriothesley's ear. "Beloved, are you awake?"

Even as Neuvillette's claws drag over Wriothesley's skin, he does not wake, lax and plant as he dozes. Neuvillette is hard and aching—and not with just one cock, but two as his composure cracks. If he's already this deep during his pre-rut, how strong will his actual cycle be? His last rut—well. Wriothesley enjoyed himself, that is for sure.

Neuvillette whines softly as his instincts get the better of him, his hand coming to rest against the sharp just of Wriothesley's hip. He thumbs at the bone there. He should wake Wriothesley up. He'd love it, being called to in the wake of the night to tend to his dragon.

But there is the deliciousness thought of Wriothesley coming awake whilst speared on open instead.

Neuvillette pulls at Wriothesley's hips, canting them up just so. He slips his thumb between his cheeks, rubbing across Wriothesley's hole. Still loose and wet from their earlier love-making. Wriothesley smells like desire, even as he sleeps. So perfect, thinks Neuvillette as he sinks his thumb into that awaiting heat.

Wriothesley moves, loosing a soft sigh as his legs spread automatically. That's worse in a way, how he reacts so readily. Perfect for the taking. Neuvillette pulls at his rim, testing the give. He could... he should... Neuvillette's age-old instincts win out as he decides to give in.

He slicks his top-most cock with Hydro, palm twisting around the spade-shaped tip. He sinks in slowly and with care, soft, rolling motions as he fucks Wriothesley open on his length. Right to the root until his thighs are flush with Wriothesely's ass, his other cock nestled between his thighs.

Neuvillette buries his face in Wriothesley's hair. Tea, sweat, and leather are what he smells like. He moans softly, nuzzling the base of Wriothesley's neck. Divine. This is why he's a mess, this is why he needs Wriothesley so badly. This is why Neuvillette woke up hot and bothered, his rut sneaking up entirely off schedule.

He grinds against him. Wriothesley's rim clenches around his length, pulling a hiss from the back of Neuvillette's throat. "Gods," he murmurs, the curse lost against Wriothesley's neck. He rocks against him, Wriothesley's insides swallowing his cock greedily.

Neuvillette's other dick slides through Wriothesley's thighs, wetting them with precome. A mess. He'll make a mess of him, both inside and out. He'll breed him—

His brain short-circuits at the thought. Neuvillette's nostrils flare as he thrusts in rougher than he means to. Later. That's a thought for later when Wriothesley is awake and arched underneath him. Neuvillette will whisper it against his ear as he ruts against him. He'll take both, one after the other, together—Neuvillette will fuck him however he begs for.

For now, he holds back, moving against him sweetly. Just to take the edge off, just to feed the heat that curls in his gut.

It is too hot in the room. Neuvillette is on fire. His fangs ghost the top knob of Wriothesley's spine, raising gooseflesh as their tips just barely sink in. He ruts into his mate lazily, lost in the heat that chokes one cock. The tip of the other nudges against Wriothesley's balls, the friction dragging a whine from the back of Neuvillette's throat.

And that is when Wriothesley stirs; the sound of Neuvillette losing himself to his pleasure pulls Wriothesley from slumber. His breath hitches and his eyelids flutter as his dreams bleed into awareness. He raises his hips, meeting Neuvillette's next thrust, groaning softly. "M'what?"

"Beloved." Neuvillette will never tire of calling him that. The next thrust of his cock is sharper, angled just so, and Wriothesley squeezes him tight as he blinks open.

"Oh," he mutters. "Oh."

"So good for me," says Neuvillette, pulling Wriothesley against him to meet the next thrust. "Perfect."

"Are—fuck, that's—" It must be good, judging by the moan that tumbles from Wriothesley's lips. Immediately, he fucks back against Neuvillette, already hungry for more. "Both of them?" he asks, still lost in the hazy fog of having just woken up to the fullness of one cock inside, and the heat of the other between his legs.

"I needed you." Neuvillette bites at the juncture of Wriothesley's neck, teasing and marking up the skin there. "I woke up and I needed you, and so I took you."

"Yes, yes." Wriothesley pulls at the sheets, gasping as Neuvillette's cock carves him open. The other remains lodged between his thighs, squeezed as Wriothesley tightens them.

"You want this," says Neuvillette in awe as his hand sweeps around Wriothesley's front to find his dick hard and leaking too. Perfect. So good for him. "You always want this."

"Always."

Neuvillette chuckles as his fingers wrap around Wriothesley's cock. He strokes it as he fucks him, that heat in his gut churning as it begins to boil. His thumb dips into the slit of Wriothesley's cock, spreading around the precome that dribbles. He jerks it from base to tip, delighting in the way it twitches against his palm.

"I was caught by surprise," says Neuvillette, sliding his cock deep into Wriothesley's ass with a wet squelch. "My rut—" He inhales Wriothesley's scent as he tries to ground himself. The air is wet and humid. Scales dot his joints as his mortal guise begins to crumble. "I apologize."

"No, no, just—keep doing that. Gods." Wriothesley's voice is hoarse with sleep but his thoughts seem to be clear enough. He wriggles against Neuvillette, forcing his cock deeper. "What a good way to wake up."

And what a filthy thing for Wriothesely to say. He wants this just as badly, his scent sharp with arousal, equally desperate as he fucks back against him, seeking out whatever friction he can find.

"Wriothesley—"

"Are you going to knot me?"

He wasn't, no. Neuvillette was planning on maintaining some semblance of control, but it's proving more and more difficult the more that Wriothesley speaks. The base of Neuvillette's cock swells in response and it takes everything within him to not just shove it in.

"I know what you're thinking," continues Wriothesley. Though awake and aware, he still sounds sleepy. His movements are lazy and half-hearted—but his words are wicked, wicked things. "Do it. I want it—"

"You are making this difficult for me." Neuvillette hides his face against Wriothesley's nape, his movements at a standstill. His cock aches, begging for release.

"Good. Breed me."

"Wriothesley—"

"And then you can fuck me with both later."

"Wriothesley."

Wriothesley shoots him a glass-eyed look over his shoulder. "How long do you have until you're bearing the brunt of it?"

Neuvillette licks his lips. "I'm not quite there; this is merely the beginnings of it, the thought of my rut barely half-formed."

"So I have time to tell Sigewenne that I need a sudden vacation." It is not a question, it is a statement. Wriothesley truly wears Neuvillette's patience thin with such overt stubbornness. But, but, his willingness is a boon, soothing the instincts that ravage Neuvillette's body.

"Incorrigible boy," is what Neuvillette eventually replies.

Wriothesley shoots him a grin. "Coming from the man who woke me up with his dick. Should I ask you again? Beg for it?"

"For what?" asks Neuvillette, deciding to play his game. He knows the answer. Wriothesley's eyes are blown wide with pleasure, and he rolls his hips once, twice, to make his point.

"Baby, please," says Wriothesley—and gods, the pet name is cloyingly sweet, and Neuvillette both loves and hates it— "Knot me. I want to feel it."

Neuvillette pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in hard. Wriothesley keens, arching against him. They make love like that, with Neuvillette's cock carving through him, with Wriothesley pulled onto his cock. Neuvillette could drown in the heat of it all, his cock stuffing Wriothesley full. Breed him, he thinks, the swell of his knot already catching at Wriothesley's rim.

They rock against each other with uncoordinated movements until Neuvillette's cock sinks the entire way in. Wriothesley chokes on a moan, hissing at the stretch of his knot. "Fuck," he moans. "Full. So, so—"

Neuvillette has let go of Wriothesley's cock, pressing against his stomach instead. "I can feel my cock," he teases, his palm pushing against the bulge there which makes Wriothesley go taut against him. "Are you going to come like this?"

"Yes. Please."

And Wriothesley does, spilling all over the sheets, quick to be overcome. "Good boy," he says, rolling his hips against him, groaning at the tight clench of Wriothesley's insides. "You feel so perfect. Such a good mate."

Wriothesley whimpers as Neuvillette chases his own high, grinding his knot deep. The dream—all of this is a dream; Wriothesley willing and pliant, stuffed full on his cock, bred until his come leaks from his hole. Neuvillette imagines both of his cocks pressed into him next, of Wriothesley, crying from overstimulation even as he begs more.

Even now, Wriothesley's breathing is pinched. Neuvillette fucks him through his orgasm, whispering praise against his skin. Wriothesley jerks as Neuvillette's knot sits against his prostate, bullying him until it's almost too much. Soft and hot. Wriothesley is soft, and hot, and takes him so well.

Neuvillette comes shortly thereafter, spilling white-hot into Wriothesley's awaiting warmth. He sucks a mark into Wriothesley's skin, and then another, and another. His hand pets the bulge of his cock through his stomach as they sink into the sheets, riding the crest of their highs, soaking up the warmth of each other as all that heat slowly warms back into a simmer.

"Must've been bad," says Wriothesley eventually. No judgment—there never is with him—but it is an observation that doesn't go unnoticed. "You wanted me that badly, huh?"

Oh, that's a tease. Neuvillette huffs. "I always do—"

"I mean, yeah. But I never wake up with you just..." Wriothesley clenches around Neuvillette's cock, which knocks the breath from Neuvillette's chest as he bucks against him in response. "Mhmn, yeah like that."

Neuvillette laughs into Wriothesley's hair. He thumbs over the soft skin of Wriothesley's belly, letting his desirous instincts think their sordid thoughts as they lie there. "What a wild thing you are," he says, nipping at the baby hairs on Wriothesley's neck. "Rest, won't you?"

Wriothesley sighs, relaxing against him. "Okay," he mutters, sleep already tugging at him again. Spent. Exhausting. Neuvillette will have to treat him sweetly later. "Can we sleep like this?"

Neuvillette's cock is still stiff and his knot won't go down for a while yet. He kisses the top of Wriothesley's spine. "Yes, love."

Wriothesley hums, having already melted into the sheets. This is likely what Neuvillette loves the most; the intimacy that comes in the aftermath of their coupling. His rut rests on the horizon unexpectedly and this must be why; he craves Wriothesley in a way that cannot be described.

His desire has been quenched for the time being. Neuvillette is satisfied, his knot locked into the tight grip of Wriothesley's ass. His other cock never finished, but it doesn't matter, already flagging against the softness of Wriothesley's inner thighs. Neuvillette buries his face in Wriothesley's hair, inhaling, breathing in his entire being.

He imagines their hearts beating in time, too attuned because they are hopelessly woven together.

For this moment, it is perfect enough.