>_>;; Not my fault...

[windandwater]

moffit caught me late last night when I was tired and weak and encouraged the plotbunnies again. Obviously, this is not my fault. It's all hers. I think she also snatched away my actual smut-writing quota for the next couple of months, too. Hahahaha...

._____.;;




The one good thing about armor and protective gears was that they helped you live longer and take harder hits.

The bad thing about armor was that it was an absolute bitch to take off.

Dailan was already lounging across the bed, easing into a calm state of relaxation, a feeling that was hard to achieve when you slept out in the wilds with monsters roaming about. But now they were in Aquarius -- had actually paid for a room at the Inn instead of camping just at the edges of the town -- and Dailan was going to enjoy the little break from monsters and questing. And as a Buffalo, he'd already unstrapped his armor and put his sword and shield at the other end of the room; he was sturdy enough to not need to wear the best armor out there.

The Dragon was a different story altogether.

Makokun had propped his staff against the wall and had taken off his heavy Buckler Helm, his long hair spilling down his back from its confinement under the helm. He gave a soft sigh, rolling his shoulders and neck to ease the tension. Dailan continued to watch intently as Makokun kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his long coat, leaving him only in his pants -- ripped at the knee from a lucky shot from a Merrow -- and his thin long-sleeved shirt. With reptilian grace, the Dragon arched his back to stretch his muscles once again and then pulled his shirt over his head. The Buffalo was treated to the sight of a pale back and smooth muscles before purple hair fluttered back down to cover skin. Makokun's hands dropped down, unwinding the Steel Band from his waist, his tail sliding lazily from side to side.

The Dragon's sigh of relief as he set aside the heavy inner armor was intoxicating.

He must've made some sort of noise, because Makokun shot Dailan and annoyed and knowing look over his shoulder. Dailan just grinned in response, not bothering to hide his appraisal -- it wasn't very often that he saw Makokun not covered by the bulky and heavy armor that protected him but also covered him from sight.

"We're safe in town," Dailan said, and nodded towards Makokun's hands. "You can take everything off."

Makokun frowned, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked down at his hands, still adorned with the heavy magical and protective rings. "You know I don't like taking these off. They boost my mana."

Dailan shrugged. "And like I said, we're safe in town. Not like some monster is gonna pop out of the bathroom and attack us."

"Remind me to take you to Phantom School, and you might change your opinion on that," Makokun replied with a quirk of a smile on his lips. Quick as a flash, Makokun was kneeling on the mattress at Dailan's feet, and crawled his way up to the head of the bed. Dailan barely dared to breathe, because even if he was a sturdy Buffalo, Makokun was a Dragon still wearing Rings, and one spell could kill him where he lay.

The thought aroused him more than it scared him, but Dailan didn't really care.

Makokun didn't stop until his head was even with Dailan's, looking into his eyes and his expression still looking cool and calm and vaguely annoyed. But Dailan knew him better than that, and knew that Makokun did have a playful side buried under all the Dragon douchebaggery. One ringed hand trailed over Dailan's shoulder and to his throat, and he couldn't help but shiver at the feel of the suppressed magic in the cold metal.

"Are you scared?"

The Buffalo kept himself from laughing (that would've been bad -- he knew from experience) and just gave the Dragon his best cocky grin. "As if I'd ever be afraid of a Dragon."

Makokun's eyes narrowed, fingers tightening around Dailan's throat, but it was an easy thing to bring his own hand up and grab Makokun's wrist in a tight hold. The other male gave a little grunt of surprise and displeasure (he'd never admit to pain), but didn't fight back. Dailan just smiled more and reached up with his free hand to tangle it in Makokun's long hair, forcing the Dragon even closer against him. Makokun's body trembled faintly, lean muscles straining in his position propped up by one hand and his knees above Dailan's body. Dailan tugged again and Makokun resisted, and Dailan knew that was just cold Dragon stubbornness.

"I could kill you with one spell," Makokun hissed, his voice like ice.

"But you won't," Dailan retorted, all fire and amusement. He tugged again, and watched as Makokun's eyes went even darker in arousal.

One thing about trying to bed a Dragon was that you had to be bullheaded about it. You had to keep pushing and pushing, had to keep bullying you way past all those cold shoulders and icy glares. Had to press forward until the Dragon finally gave and let you in. And it was a damn good thing that even for a Buffalo, Dailan was really bullheaded and prone to charging in without a plan. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Dailan tugged on his handful of purple hair again, smirking at Makokun's annoyed hiss.

"Take off your rings."

"Make me."

And that was all the challenge the Buffalo needed. With one movement, he flipped his position, pinning Makokun's wrist down against the mattress, and tugging his hair hard to expose that long pale stretch of throat. Dailan met Makokun's challenging look with one of his own and ignored the tail beating against his legs and the other ringed hand scratching near his spine. He dipped his head down, running his tongue over Makokun's adam's apple and grinned like a fool when the Dragon nearly melted against the bed.

With his lips working over Makokun's neck and shoulders, it was easy to pull the first ring off Makokun's pinned hand, dropping the jewelry off the side of the bed. Makokun looked like he would gladly punch Dailan in the face, but his expression changed to one of lust when Dailan took those naked fingers into his mouth and sucked. It was very fun to tease a Dragon, to rile them up and get them hot and bothered and writhing under you. Even better when the second ring was pulled off Makokun's other hand, and his bare fingers wove into Dailan's hair and one gripped a horn, hips pumping up as he fucked Dailan's mouth, his pants tangled around his knees. Yes, it was very fun to hear a Dragon curse and moan under his breath, struggling to remain cool and collected and quiet as long, thick fingers worked him open. But Dailan had to admit that the best thing was having a horny Dragon shredding off your clothes, pushing you down and riding you hard and fast, pale body arching and straining and impaled on your cock.

Dailan's own fingers tightened over Makokun's hips as he thrust up harder, not afraid of hurting or breaking because Makokun would never forgive him if Dailan treated him like a girl.

They were both panting, the room filled with the slick wet sounds of their sex and the bed thumping noisly against the wall. But Dailan didn't care because Makokun was writhing, dancing above him and lost in pleasure, and he was so tight and warm when most people thought Dragons were cold and cruel. Dailan freed one hand, tangling it in Makokun's tangled hair once more, yanking his head down into a brutal and fierce kiss that was matched. And then the Dragon keened into Dailan's mouth, his whole body shuddering and going tight, and it was all Dailan could do to keep fucking, to keep burying himself in Makokun's body until he was there, too, a hoarse shout escaping his throat as the world went white.

Afterwards, with them both still panting for breath, Makokun let himself drape boneless and lazy over Dailan's muscled chest. Thin naked fingers traced over Dailan's nipple, drawing silly runes and symbols over bronzed skin. Dailan kept one hand tangled in Makokun's hair, the other sliding over his hip. It was warm and comfortable and safe, and Dailan absolutely loved it when they got to stay in a town.

"... you better not have lost my rings, or I'll beat you."

And towns had shops. Shops always sold things. Things that kept a Buffalo from being beaten to death by an angry Dragon.



-- Owari --