Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cold.

It was one of those sensations that Wriothesley never really paid attention to, granted that the Fortress of Meropide was always cold. The chill that prickled his skin wasn’t new. He was used to them for years. But this cold, this unmoored iciness, unhingedly bit into his bones and shattered his senses. It drove a numbing fever into his flesh, which the powdery snow beneath his back could not relieve. 

He knew he was cut somewhere — but where? What seemed like his foot turned out to be his left hand, what he thought might be his knee; Wriothesley winced in his head as his elbow cracked. 

Was he about to die? 

He shook those thoughts out of his head. It’s been years since he thought of such fatalistic notions. In this head, he could hear a voice echoing, but the pain all over his body took hold instead. He remembered falling when the snowy ground they were trekking on split open.  He remembered the felon laughing, cackling in madness as the crevice swallowed him.

Wriothesley did not remember how long he had fallen or whether he had hit the ground intact. His vision swam, the darkness edging into his sight, blotting out patches of whiteness. The snow beneath his arms was melting from something — body heat, his blood, or his hallucination, perhaps. But he did see something — or that he heard something — a pair of icy hands, tipped with claws, clasping his jaw, tilting his face upward. 

“...too late.”

“The laboratory is gone. Leave it, Vasyl.”

“The man…he’s got part of the blood...”

“Let him die. We have to leave now.”

“Our samples, Doctor. We can’t just leave these samples. The organization will deal with us.”

“We can bring him along with us. Cut off his arm, something, freeze it.”

“Just go! This place is going to collapse. Just how long do you think you’ll take to cut a man’s arm off? And with all that muscle?”

“Doctor!”

“He won’t survive the transformation. You all saw what happened to those prisoners we tested on?”

Wriothesley heard a hard, mocking scoff.

“He will soon die or turn into one of them. Got it? The bloodline. It’s too unstable. We can harvest more blood later from the lab at Yekaterink.” 

There were sounds of doors shutting and the piercing whirl of an emergency siren. Wriothesley opened his eyes, redness seeping through the whites. 

He pushed himself up before snow, ice, and stone roared down on him.

It was an avalanche.

------------------------------o------------------------------

“He’s awake! Head Nurse, Head Nurse!”

“He’s awake, Monsieur Neuvillette! Miss Sigewinne!” 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, you’re here! Copetta, get the supplies here. Call for hot water!”

A barrage of voices sounded above Wriothesley. The yelling of words that made sense and non-sense at the same time slipped into one ear and out of the other. He wanted to move his hand, or a few fingers and somehow, thought did not translate to action and he laid there, as if a giant hand had pinned him down and left him nailed to the ground. 

Or the bed, for that matter. 

Every single muscle in his body sluggishly obeyed and defied him at the same time.

At least he was breathing.

Wriothesley opened his eyes and took in a huge breath. Pain was a friend. It made him aware of how dreadfully mortal he was. It also taught him to have limits, albeit, in a demanding way. Pain can be a formidable ally, but right now, it is not. His ribs cracked on that breath he took though the familiar sight of the mottled brownstone ceiling above him gave him comfort.

This was the Fortress of Meropide. 

He should be feeling relief instead that he did not freeze to death in some godforsaken mountain in Snezhnaya. That was a huge fall he survived and Wriothesley could only remember patches of it. Hazy bits of memories wafted in and out of his head — cold snow, broken bones, the cackling laugh of that former agent who decided to kill everyone together with him by triggering an avalanche and him falling into a strange underground facility. 

Wriothesley shook his head, trying to remember the conversations he heard while injured. ‘Samples’, bloodlines, and a few foreign names, and there was some threat about cutting his arm off. 

It didn’t make too much sense. 

Wriothesley drummed his fingers against the bed as voices above him yelled and shouted, and someone’s shadow loomed over him.

A gentle hand touched his left arm, “Wriothesley?”

The Duke could feel the tension radiating from those fingers, and even as they pressed onto his arm lightly, the anxiety was palpable. His eyes wandered up, finally adjusting to the dimness of his bedroom. 

Neuvillette was bent over him, his jaw clenched tight, though there was a small smile on his lips. His face looked gaunt, the bags below his eyes more pronounced than usual, and his hair slightly more frazzled, as if he had been sleeping earlier and gotten up in a hurry. 

The Iudex's expression slowly softened as he reached over, passing a hand across Wriothesley’s forehead, pushing locks of hair away from Wriothesley’s face. He seemed to be checking something carefully and that was when Wriothesley realized his entire head was bandaged and bits of his hair shaved off. 

“Does this still hurt?”

Neuvillette’s hand hovered over Wriothesley’s left arm.

Neuvillette proceeded to explain the injuries, starting with his left arm. It was entirely broken in two parts — very clean breaks, though much of his skin and flesh were flayed by broken rocks. The low temperature nearly set him into hypothermia if not for the strength of his body being able to withstand it and that the Cryo Vision he wore had somewhat prevented him from dying on the spot. Otherwise, the rest of his body was miraculously spared, except for his back, entirely torn by the glass and metal he fell on.

Wriothesley quietly listened to Neuvillette’s lengthy explanations, taking stock of each injury the Iudex mentioned.  

Sigewinne came in with a cup of boiled mugweed broth — milky green in color and totally disgusting in texture. Wriothesley was going to refuse on the spot when the smell made him absolutely queasy. However, by the sheer virtue of Neuvillette’s pleading look, Wriothesley opened his mouth obediently and ate down the gruesomely green broth concoction. 

“An experimental facility?”

Wriothesley asked after chasing away the slimy film in his mouth with a cup of hot water. Neuvillette removed the cup and straw and set it on the table before using a small napkin to wipe Wriothesley’s mouth.

Neuvillette nodded, “The Snezhnaya Diplomatic Branch was unaware that there was an extensive experiment facility below the mountain range that you and the convoy were traveling across.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He was about to scoff at something else and rub his forehead in thought before he was aware his arms were both injured. His left was in a tight splint, while his right was bandaged tightly. 

Wriothesley wiggled his fingers instead.

“Anyway, what happened to the rest of the convoy? The guards and the ambassador?”

“The ambassador managed to save herself. Her Vision activated and kept her alive, airborne at least for a while before she gave up from the cold. We found her barricaded in a cave further down. The guards, they…” Neuvillette fell silent, his brow furrowed and his expression solemn, “They all fell into the underground facility along with you…”

“Did they survive?” Wriothesley asked. The guards were hires. He checked every single one of them, their backgrounds, families, and anyone who wanted to make quick money. The risks ran high, and every single one signed an indemnity, knowing for sure that failure often meant death.

Neuvillette seemed to fall into a musing of his own. Centuries back, he would have reported in detail with no hesitation. After all, the truth was the truth, and no one should be barred from it. 

But now, it is different.

“Neuvillette?”

“Ah, my apologies, I was caught in thought,” Neuvillette muttered, and he stood, moving to sit by the side of the bed, “We — I do not know whether they have survived. The search party gave a report. They found no bodies. No belongings, not even a shoe.”

Neuvillette’s tone was edged with disturbance, “You were unconscious above a heap of glass and metal. You fell on one of their machines. An incubator of some sorts.”

Wriothesley licked his lips. His stomach suddenly churned, contents within revolting even as a memory rush overcame him. His back muscles spasmed in recollection of something foreign, cold and slippery seeping into his body, along with a quick flash of garbled conversations above his failing senses about cutting him up. 

“Wriothesley?”

He looked up. Neuvillette’s hand cupped Wriothesley’s cheek. The press of Neuvillette’s palm against his face felt good.

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

Wriothesley smiled wanly and winced, noticing for the first time there were ulcers inside his mouth. Maybe he shouldn’t have chased the sticky greasiness away.

He turned his head, kissing the inside of Neuvillette’s palm. The Iudex’s skin was cold to the touch.

“Somehow, I managed,” Wriothesley laughed almost disbelievingly, “You did try to persuade me not to go.”

“Your sense of responsibility was too strong,” Neuvillette murmured pointedly, stroking Wriothesley’s cheek, “You must take a long absence from work after this.” 

“And who would take care of the mess that happens every other day in the Fortress?”  Came the immediate reply.

Neuvillette shook his head in response, “There should be someone to take care of things.”

Wriothesley leaned his head back, cranking his neck slightly before turning to look at Neuvillette, “The Fortress could be under the care of the Court for a few months then. Not that I could protest since the Iudex is worrying himself to bits right here by my bedside.”

“It would be an understatement to say I am just worrying, Wriothesley.”

“I know, I know, I could have died back there.”

Wriothesley rolled on his shoulder, inching closer to Neuvillette’s back, his face nuzzling into the pressed lengths of Neuvillette’s judge robes, “Don’t worry anymore.”

He laid like that for a while until his shoulder tendons protested sorely, and he gave Neuvillette’s waist a kiss before laying back again.

“I will attempt,” Neuvillette stroked Wriothesley’s face again, moving the chopped bangs away from the Duke’s forehead.

“Do I look shorn? Like one of those sad sheep we saw last year in the countryside?” 

It was a weak attempt to lighten the mood. Neuvillette looked blank for a moment.

“The hair will grow back,” Neuvillette said, leaning down to kiss the Duke’s forehead before he stood up, “I’ll have Sigewinne come in with dinner. You should eat something.”

Dinner was a plate of boiled blue-tinged porridge with boiled carp cheeks, which Sigewinne insisted was boiled with the bulbs and stems of Romaritime flowers to help Wriothesley’s wounds heal faster and his broken bones, or whatever broken bits there were set quickly. He was used to bitterness but certainly not the astringent bite each spoonful gave him.  She praised him each time he swallowed a spoonful and threatened to tell Monsieur Neuvillette if he refused the next.

Ultimately, Wriothesley pleaded with the Head Nurse for a cup of sweet tea and was told no. Instead, Wriothesley drank a cup of hot water (Sigewinne instructed firmly that the Duke must not be given tea for the next month. ‘His body will need to retain water, not get rid of it, ' she insisted firmly.)

After a month, the Duke was capable of walking, but during that same month, he experienced several strange flashes of sweating heat at night. Wriothesley would often wake up, drenched to the skin, his sleeping garments stuck to his body, and in the dead of night, reach out to grab his Vision, willing the coldness to come and reduce the peculiar burning sensations in his spine and lower legs. But the relief was only temporary, and he sat upright, heart pounding in his ears, a sudden sinking feeling in his gut, and his fingers clutched tight around his pulsing Vision. 

Eventually, he slept at the early break of dawn, snatching fitful moments before Sigewinne appeared with his breakfast. 

The Head Nurse was quite concerned with his health, and as she set down the tray, she eyed his sodden shirt, glassy eyes, and pale lips. Sigewinne pressed a hand on the Duke’s forehead. His skin was oddly cool to touch, and his eyes were bloodshot. 

Sigewinne folded her arms, a small frown wedged between her brows.

“Monsieur Neuvillette is busy tonight again,” she announced as she went to the clothing cabinets, found a towel and a set of new clothes, and placed them on the Duke’s bed. “Are you having a fever? Or feeling pain somewhere? Maybe I should change your prescription as well and increase the dosage.”

Sigewinne emphasized heavily on the last sentence she said.

“There’s no need to worry him. Isn’t it the season for tax audits?” Wriothesley muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, “Even if he’s no longer dealing with the financial offices, you know how he is. Neuvillette can’t stop himself from being concerned about their processes.” 

Wriothesley’s fingers trembled slightly over the last button. He blinked his eyes quickly, trying to refocus his senses. A freezing shower would do him good. He was burning up inside.

The shower facility built in his quarters was a legacy from a few decades ago. When Wriothesley decided to convert this part of the residence level to his office and living space, he took liberty as well to test various pneumousia-driven contraptions, some which he had a couple of engineers work on over the years, and improve them for mass production. The hot and cold shower system was one such invention that brought a semblance of physical comfort for the guards working in the Fortress though right now, Wriothesley had no need of that hot water.

He pulled the handle, hearing the rush of water up the pipes before it splashed onto his head and shoulders in icy bouts. Wriothesley scrubbed at his hair and his neck, trying to massage the tightness away. Somehow, his entire body felt tense, and there were knots in his lower legs. He thought it might be because he had not exercised for a while, having spent more than a month in recovery.  

Wriothesley examined his body as he washed the soap suds off. Apart from the ache in his bones where he had fractured them, the broken parts had healed rather well, and he was sure that in another month or two, he could go back to the Pankration to throw a few rounds. Nothing bothered him as much as being unable to exert and use all that energy building in his body, especially when Neuvillette had decided to take on the paperwork for the Fortress in this month since Wriothesley was recuperating. 

Though the Duke had insisted that his brain was certainly not fractured and could function, a mere few numbers wouldn’t hurt. However, the Iudex insisted on complete bed rest. Neuvillette’s stubbornness was extraordinary, and Wriothesley had not experienced the full extent of it till now.

As long as he didn’t overwork himself, though he’d had a few officers bring him some books to take a look at, Neuvillette had, in all perfection, balanced the statements and wrote reports on everything from meal deliveries to a proposed deep-cleaning of several residential sections for the inmates. 

“All I wish for you now is to make sure you return in good health, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette had said seriously and with all earnestness he could muster two evenings ago when he visited. They exchanged a few work reports and before the evening ended, Neuvillette was on Wriothesley’s bed and kissing him like a greedy, thirsty thing. Not that they could do anything more after that, but it was enough resolve for Wriothesley to speed up his recovery.

Including downing all those nasty milkshakes. Wriothesley sighed, brushing away his thoughts as now he sucked in a breath and bent his back, reaching to touch down his calves and to his toes. His muscles flexed with the stretch, and he heard a crack in his lower spine. 

Likely a result of lying down too much, he thought regretfully to himself, and being extremely lazy. 

But at least Wriothesley knew he was getting better. 

He barely had any memory of the moment when he fell down the crevice, and the extent of his wounds was only described to him by Neuvillette after much adamant insistence. Neuvillette resisted because he said, ‘there was no need to revisit the horror’ but finally relented and told the Duke a standing strip of steel pierced his ankle and, luckily, missed the artery and his calf bone. 

He rubbed idly at one of his ankles, checking the bones before running his fingers around his other ankle and pausing. Perhaps it was imagination, perhaps not, but there was a strange sensation sliding over his skin, as if he was touching a fish's soft belly or that of a snake's underside. 

Discomfited, Wriothesley squatted down and peered at his ankle for a closer look. All he saw was rough skin and the pale round mark of a deep scar where he’d had rammed against a broken metal nail in the Pankration Ring some years back.

It must be his imagination. All that laying in bed must have made his brain turn into mush. 

The shower left him feeling refreshed and relieved, at least, and he stepped out, water dripping off his hair, his hand running through the regrowing parts where it was all rough and stubbly. The capable doctor employed by the Fortress had shaved off all the hair in a bid to sew up the wounds on the Duke’s scalp. Sigewinne had left him the evening meal, a milkshake, and medication, as well a handwritten note of instruction from Neuvillette that there must be no work done tonight and especially no visit to the Pankration Ring.

Wriothesley chuckled to himself as he sat on the bed, mopping his wet neck and hair with another towel. If he even stepped into the Ring a mere inch, a melusine would mysteriously chance upon him and immediately send a message to Sigewinne or Neuvillette. The heightened concern bothered him slightly. He was alive and alright; the worst was over. Surely, both of them could allow him at least to lift some weights in the gym or go for a run around the production level ring.  

He started on his meal. Sigewinne had finally graduated him from that sticky, gruel-like substance and had something more substantial prepared. Tonight’s meal was a stew of meat and potatoes, bread for mopping for the leftover sauce and a bowl of cut fruit. Somehow, the stringy bits of meat in his mouth felt less tasty than usual, though he’d reckoned Wolsey used a massive helping of spice with the sauce, seeing how dark red the stew was. Or could it be his tastebuds dulled from being too long in the snow? 

Wriothesley chewed on a chunk of meat for a while, his hand rubbing his cheek. Was it him, or did his teeth seem sharper than usual? Wolsey’s meat stews generally used the tougher, cheaper cuts with ample gristle, and they often took a bit of grinding before they could be swallowed. But somehow, his teeth were shredding up the chunk in his mouth easily. He made a mental note to check later in the mirror if there was anything odd or maybe just ask if Wolsey swapped the brisket for a fillet cut tonight.

After finishing his meal, his mouth felt unusually dry, and the fruit and water did not help ease the dryness. The sensation crawled down his throat and tugged at his chest, along with a peculiar unease in his limbs — a need to move and do something, anything and not just rest in his bed again. 

Maybe he will just take a few jogs around the production ring to work out the jitters in his legs. 

The run did him good, even though the guards at that level were surprised to see the Duke out and about, sprinting past them in his exercise gear as if nothing had happened a month ago that he was brought back to the Fortress nearly dead. Three rounds around the production ring later, he was back in his quarters, clothes soaked with sweat, and feeling much better. His limbs were all loosened, and he’d got a bit of exercise. He could use another shower, sleep early, and see Neuvillette at the Opera Epiclese tomorrow. At least, Wriothesley bet he would sleep better tonight.

So wrong he was. 

He jolted awake in the middle of the night, a heavy muskiness coating his tongue, and his throat felt tight and dry. His entire back was wet with cold sweat, and his limbs burned with a heat far worse than what he’d endured for the past month. His stomach churned with acid, and he gagged, spitting up a pale yellow fluid in his hand. 

Wriothesley staggered up, trying to make his way to the shower. He could have considered calling for someone or anyone, but those thoughts were not in his head. His brain was just echoing the pain points throughout his body—his legs, his chest, his lower spine, and his groin. It was the feeling of something attempting to take over, but he was not sure what. 

He finally managed to stumble into the shower and slammed his hand on the handle, turning the water on full blast. Gasping, Wriothesley pulled off his wet clothes, trying to get them off his skin, before his fingers scrapped across a glittering line of scales down his lower abdomen, down his oblique muscles — his hand brushing between his legs. 

Wriothesley startled. He froze for some time before lowering his gaze, his eyes widening in incredulity as he stared between the torn flaps of his sleeping shorts at the reddened skin of two cocks, the slits fiercely leaking.  

Two?

He blinked his eyes. Did water get into them? Magnified his privates and doubled his vision for some reason? 

Wriothesley was unsure what else to think to avoid making the whole discovery so intimately awkward. He cautiously moved his left hand simultaneously, as if these parts did not belong to him, and wrapped his fingers around the upper one.

He stroked, pinched, and touched himself around the base and root, more amazed now than shocked that the muscles reacted to his touch and the entire length stiffening in his grip. They seemed to respond similarly to his touch, and he felt no other strange sensations apart from the oversensitivity and a new heaviness.

A nagging thought rose at the back of his mind as to why Neuvillette or Sigewinne did not notice these changes. Or that they knew and feared to tell him, or perhaps the two were trying to find a solution to medicate him through it without him ever finding out. If that was so, it was unfortunate their plans did not pull through. 

Yet anyway, it would be a question he’d ask Neuvillette later if he remembered. 

At any rate, there was nothing else Wriothesley could do since the changes had already started. Still, a vested curiosity soon overtook his initial shock. In small, careful motions, he mapped his hands over parts of his body, his mind recovering from the surprise to take stock of what was exactly happening and what he should do next.  

His human form seemed to be retained. All the other changes appeared to be superficial, physical even, though he also became quite aware that the heat broiling in his limbs was gone, replaced by a coldness in his flesh that he could not fathom where it was emerging from.

He carefully examined the scales on his body again. Snowy-white with a pale bluish tinge, they were smallish and semi-translucent. As he moved his leg and flexed the muscles, he could see his scarred skin beneath the thinness of those scales. The scales ringed his ankles and appeared as patterned lines stripping his inner thighs to circle up to his obliques. Curiously, he slipped a fingernail underneath the lip of a single scale. It lifted without pain, but he couldn’t pull it out, and it tugged at his skin as if it was skin itself or a patch of hair.

His hands were next. Wriothesley noted his fingers had become noticeably thicker, the knuckles more pronounced, and his nails had elongated with a slight sharpness. He thought of vishap claws and quickly went to touch his forehead for any other signs of strange appendages growing from his body while he had been asleep. A quick swipe of his lower spine confirmed that only a smattering of scales was present, not that a tail had emerged from nowhere.

The broken conversation he remembered at the bottom of the crevice returned hauntingly into Wriothesley's mind. By now, he was pretty sure what exactly was happening to his body.

Wriothesley leaned back against the wet tiles of the bathroom wall and contemplated. Whatever those samples were, those genes—not human—were in him and had miraculously fused with his body. Judging from the scales appearing on his body, the changes to his genitals, and the peculiar lengthening of some of his body parts, it was not difficult to deduce that whatever the laboratory facility was dealing with was connected to likely some form of a giant lizard, or maybe amphibian. 

He ran even more checks carefully through his mind. No wonder he did not feel too short of breath earlier, taking those six laps around the production ring. But in this situation, it was likely only Neuvillette could provide answers for him or figure out what was happening, whether it could be reversed, or whether it would only be these physical changes and nothing more. 

Wriothesley glanced down between his legs again. This would need a pair of looser, more oversized pants to cover it. But now, he has to clean himself, quickly dress and find Neuvillette.

Chapter Text

Neuvillette was awake in the early hours before dawn break; his head bent over paperwork in the little office that was part of his quarters in the Palais Mermonia. He was surprised to hear the doors open and the familiar sounds of Wriothesley’s heavy footsteps in the foyer of his apartment. 

The Duke’s large figure appeared in the hallway just as Neuvillette emerged from his office, his hands pulling at the thin blanket around his shoulders. Wriothesley usually turned up this late at night only if an emergency required Neuvillette’s presence in the Fortress. Else, Neuvillette’s first thought was that Wriothesley’s injuries were acting up again, and he didn’t want to bother Sigewinne to look at it. 

“Wriothesley?”

Neuvillette called out.

A crack of thunder boomed in the distance outside the windows. Wriothesley moved slowly into the hall, removing his coat and rubbing his forehead. Neuvillette’s apartment was always half-doused in darkness, the lights at the lowest and dimmest, bathing everything in a yellowish-blue tinged glow. 

He sat on one of the oversized winged chairs while Neuvillette brought out a teapot and cups. Water for himself, tea for Wriothesley since Sigewinne had finally allowed him to drink. 

“Hmm, so something has happened.”

It was all Wriothesley could think of saying. Suddenly, all words fled his head. Where should he start? The extra (and enlarged) body parts? His scales? Or the random fevers and odd nightmares of him chasing fish and crabs in very dark waters? 

Neuvillette placed a cup of warm tea into Wriothesley’s hands. 

“Are you not able to sleep?” Neuvillette pushed his chair closer, and when he sat down, their knees knocked against each other. “Should I ask Sigewinne to prepare you some dried marcotte tea? My bed has fresh sheets today from the laundry. If you want to, you can sleep here tonight. Would you consider that?”

A flurry of questions and offers, but Neuvillette’s expression told Wriothesley otherwise. A twitch of Neuvillette’s upper lip, a bare widening of his eyes, and a quick downcast look. A slight tremble of his fingers around his glass of water. 

Wriothesley set his cup of tea on the side table. He leaned forward, took the glass of undrunk water from Neuvillette’s hands, and placed it next to his cup. 

“Neuvillette. If there was anything you did not want to tell me back then, I believe there is a reason, and that reason is that you care for me. Hmm…how should we do this…”

He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it down until his waist and stomach were exposed, and loosened his belt, pulling down his pants a notch to reveal his hipbones.

“Wriothesley...” Neuvillette’s lilac gaze darkened. He reached out, tracing the large swathes of shimmering pale blue scales with his fingers. They rippled under his touch as Wriothesley took in several deep breaths. 

“Heh, that tickles. But you see this? Mm, you’re the only person I know who can explain what’s going on.”

Neuvillette’s hand moved to press on Wriothesley's lower groin.

“Did you have a desire to consume certain things or feel as if you’re burning up inside here?” 

Neuvillette’s questions seemed peculiarly specific.

“Fish. I kept thinking about fish and crabs. Well, where you’ve touched? That’s true. As expected, you’re the right person to ask.”

Neuvillette’s gaze trailed down between Wriothesley’s legs. “Are there more changes?”

Wriothesley had managed to suppress his rationality for a good stretch of time while Neuvillette was slowly examining his body. It was apparent a particular part of his body was reacting exceptionally positively to Neuvillette’s hands roaming over him.

Wriothesley laughed, not too wholeheartedly, and sighed: “I will have to strip myself to show you that change completely.”

“Shall we go to my bed then?” Neuvillette stood up, his hands moving to unbutton his nightshirt. “I will need to prepare myself as well…”

Wriothesley tilted his head. Curiosity, rather than any other feeling, surged through his mind. 

It was just how Neuvillette was: not saying everything, jumping to solve the matter as he thought he should, and likely apologizing terribly afterwards. He should have thought better and told Wriothesley the entire truth.

As expected:

“Before that, I wish to apologize to you, Wriothesley.” 

Neuvillette’s voice was soft, his tone pitched low, and his hands shook slightly. He looked up barely, his eyes fluttering close as he took another deep breath. His hands paused on the last button of his shirt. “I did not tell you everything.”

“Neuvillette,” Wriothesley stood up as well, moving Neuvillette’s chair out of the way to make space for them to stand facing each other, “What you are going to tell me must be complicated. Even if this was an unexpected turn of events, it was likely unavoidable from the moment I was rescued. You knew it right at the start, didn’t you? The Head Nurse, too. Both of you.”

Wriothesley’s eyes tracked Neuvillette’s movements calmly. 

Neuvillette’s breath caught in his chest. His face was still, and his eyes lowered again.

“I did not want to tell you until the investigations were underway, but there was barely any information from my inquiries. I had sensed the bloodline’s growing presence in your body. However, Sigewinne wanted to be completely sure before we said anything.”

“Bloodline?” Wriothesley raised an arm, flexing his muscles and showing another strip of ice-blue scales scattered on the underside of his upper arm. He smacked his lips. “So, I was not wrong. That particular Snezhnayan facility did experiments on vishaps, did they not?”

Neuvillette nodded slowly before correcting him, “Experiments on ancient vishaps.”

“Let’s see. So, out of anywhere and everywhere, I could have an accident; it happened to be a secret experimental laboratory.” Wriothesley rubbed his chin, considering Neuvillette’s words.

Neuvillette’s gaze fell, and he caught his top lip between his teeth, “The investigation team found empty tanks and cages. Anything with a label or a record was destroyed, but the shape and sizes of these tanks, the traces of blood and anything we could find were important clues.”

He paused, lifted his head, lilac irises darkening, “At least for me. There was some closure.”

“Was it someone you knew?” Wriothesley asked.

Neuvillette nodded slowly, “A dragon, no, a former Sovereign, was held captive in the facility. But I believe they have been dead for a long time. I do not recall much of others, apart from what his Majesty, Lord Nibelung had allowed me to remember.”

The Iudex let out a deep sigh, feeling helpless.

Wriothesley’s tongue clicked gently, and he felt a warning bell go off in his head. The room appeared much darker than it seemed, like the disjointed thoughts in his head. He decided to ask another question.

“Were all the tanks empty? I suppose they would have holding cells there, like any other facility.”

Neuvillette nodded, “You are right. They were all empty. No traces of my peop— vishaps left from the queries I sent regarding the incident. No other survivors and even the presence of the facility staff were wiped out.”

Wriothesley folded his arms over his chest. He noticed new scales forming across his pectorals, like a scattering of snowflakes; each single scale glimmered with a faint, icy glint. Perhaps it was time to change the topic, though he had a growing suspicion of what exactly had fused into his body.

“These scales, hmm…they seem to be growing randomly everywhere. Let’s see…I do have a question right now. Does this bloodline you speak of make us closer in a way?”

Neuvillette arched his eyebrows, “Not in the direct sense. But it does enable you to be…” He seemed to frown, his lilac eyes narrowing momentarily as if searching for an apt answer before staring at Wriothesley; the tips of his pointed ears flushed pink, “...in a way to become more compatible with me.”

“Haha, so there is good in this unfortunate situation of mine,” Wriothesley smiled, followed by a low chuckle. He shrugged as he pulled his shirt away, draping the garment on the back of the chair. “I’d have to thank you for the efforts, though, Monsieur, you and the Head Nurse. It was not easy to keep a secret, especially if it was you.” 

“You are not bothered at all,” Neuvillette marveled, shaking his head. 

“Heh, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” Wriothesley chuckled, “I suppose that’s how I should deal with this, yes…”

Neuvillette could only nod.

“Monsieur. Once, you told me that you’re a reincarnation of a dragon.”

“Yes, I did. We had this talk a few years ago.” 

“Hmm… do all dragons reincarnate at the end of their lives? You know, those giant vishaps that live on the islands around Fontaine?”

“No. The vishaps do not reincarnate. We do not…” Neuvillette looked up, stared at Wriothesley, his pupils transforming into gleaming violet slits, “...do not consider them the same as we are. They are similar… related in a way. Some of my former peers regarded them as progeny. Does this make sense to you, Wriothesley?”

“Absolutely, Monsieur.” Wriothesley smiled, his thoughts oscillating between theory and conclusion. Offhandedly, he wondered what color Neuvillette’s blood was before he remembered to reply and reassure the Iudex,  “It makes complete sense to me.”

Neuvillette breathed in again, turning his head to look at the sky outside his apartment windows as if contemplating the hours remaining for the night.

“As for a dragon’s reincarnation, there are conditions must be in place before it can occur. However, Nibelung has never revealed each and every condition.”

“You returned, though,” Wriothesley interjected, bending now to undo the belts on his boots before taking them off. He wiggled his toes, finding it amusing to see a translucent shimmer bounce off the sides of his feet.

“With a great cost,” Neuvillette replied carefully, “I would have ceased to exist or be reborn a thousand years later if the condition cannot be met.”

Wriothesley paused, slipping his pants off, his thumb hooking onto the band of his underwear, “I’m keeping these on until we get onto the bed, Monsieur.” 

There was a slight cheeky edge to his voice. 

Completely unfazed, Neuvillette nodded in acknowledgment, “I understand.”

It was his turn to remove the last bit of clothing on himself. Neuvillette shrugged his nightshirt off, placing it on the arm of the chair, and turned to look at Wriothesley, his pale body outlined in faint silver-blue from the moonlight spilling through the windows, “But I will see this through with you and tell you more as we proceed. Will you join me in my bed? I will explain everything that is happening to your body. I do not know if you will enjoy the experience, but I will make sure I…”

Neuvillette bit his lower lip. His hands moved to unknot the ribbon of his loose sleeping pants, letting the garment fall into a heap around his ankles. “ No, this is not the right time… ” he muttered to himself. 

Other priorities first , he chided himself quietly, and mainly to make sure these changes to Wriothesley’s body would not harm him in any way. Neuvillette was very sure that the Vision Wriothesley carried had protected him from the worst that could happen.

At least the Duke still looked human in front of him. Neuvillette was not at all excited about the minute changes he was observing.

Neuvillette held his hand towards Wriothesley, beckoning him to come closer, “I will make sure I do my best, Wriothesley.”

Wriothesley smiled and walked forward, sliding his arm across Neuvillette’s bare waist, “So, am I going to turn into a dragon since the blood of your relative somehow has gotten into my body?”

“They are not a relative of mine,” Neuvillette replied bluntly before he became aware that his fingers were clenched tightly into his palms. He looked away, seemingly struggling from within, and tried to soften his voice. “They are not a relation. If I may elaborate, we were all created as separate entities. Like the stars are born in the same universe, they are still their own bodies as I am of mine own, and the other dragons are their own.”

Neuvillette breathed, relaxing his hands and shaking his head. His next statement was spoken heavily: “You will not turn into a dragon.”

“Heh, that’s a pity. I was looking forward to swimming around the Fortress with you,” Wriothesley jested before he started walking towards the bedroom, his hand clasping Neuvillette’s fingers, “Come, Monsieur, you have a long night. Ah, no, we have a long night for you to teach and tell me everything.”

Chapter Text

Wriothesley expected more of a history lesson than a practical walkthrough in biology. 

He sat on the bed, quietly listening and nodding at several moments as Neuvillette, who was kneeling facing him, described the physical changes to the body, starting from the head and the eyes, to his chest and hips, the alternations to skin and the olfactory senses.  

“Would I have this?”

He reached out and touched the twin flat rhinophores extending from Neuvillette’s head. Startled by the sudden contact, Neuvillette blinked before he shook his head twice.

“Unlikely,” Yet, even when he said this, Neuvillette threaded his fingers into Wriothesley’s hair, taking his time to check, and he shook his head again, “But I do not know.”

He let his hands fall to touch Wriothesley’s neck and spoke slowly: “I am born into a human body, yet as I grew, these features developed. My eyes, these horns, and my claws. It was as if the old blood recognized who I was and decided to give me an identity.”

Neuvillette inched close till his knees brushed against Wriothesley’s.

“Wriothesley?”

Wriothesley lifted his arm, flexed the muscles slightly, and watched the scales on his skin flex and glimmer, “If I understand what you just said, Monsieur, I suppose I can live with these small changes.”

He lifted his other arm, observing the scales fan an icy silver across his skin.

“And if I understood again correctly… the old blood, no, this dragon’s blood inside me, has taken a liking to me and decided not to kill me.”

Neuvillette tried to keep his agitation under control, “They won’t try.”

“Yet,” Wriothesley interjected quickly and unlocked his knees, sitting with his legs spread apart, “Is it because they are afraid of you, Monsieur?”

Wriothesley let out a laugh that faltered into a ghostly smile on his lips as he tapped at his chest, “Whatever’s inside here.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, “Wriothesley.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t joke about it,” Wriothesley held up his hands in mock surrender and rolled his shoulder, cracking his neck, “As long as I don’t sprout horns overnight and grow teeth the size of a door.”

He let out a short laugh at his joke. 

Neuvillette’s expression remained tense. He moved his hands, tracing fingers down Wriothesley’s bare chest before placing his palms on Wriothesley’s thighs, gazing at him intently. Slowly, as if not to make his approach too startling, Neuvillette moved even closer till his knees touched the growing bulge pushing against Wriothesley’s underwear.

“You still have questions.”

“A difficult one,” Wriothesley admitted, leaning back and balancing his weight on his hands that were placed flat on the bed, “Though I was thinking, and I recalled, I have never seen you ever with two penises, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette coughed, lowering his head, and in the most collected manner, replied: “I do have two penises.”

“Oh…hmm…you have two penises, you say?” Wriothesley swung his gaze down to look between Neuvillette’s legs. “You have one.”

“I have two.”

“You’ll have to show me where the other one is. But first, I’ll need your understanding of what is happening here.” Wriothesley licked his lips slowly and hooked his thumbs to his underwear before sliding everything off. 

Neuvillette’s eyebrows barely raised though his eyes narrowed as Wriothesley leaned back to show the two cocks jutting out from his lower part, semi-erected, their slits wet and gleaming. Tiny delicate scales ring the base of each cock, their silvery rims catching the moonlight as Wriothesley moved to stretch himself slightly. 

“Heh, that bloodline somehow decided to give me two as well. I cannot decide if they are pleased with being in my body or just want to give me a harder time.” Wriothesley moved his legs apart, wiggling his toes, and sat up straight, “What do you think. Monsieur?”

“Your penises are very much functioning, Wriothesley. Except you do not have a pouch where one could retreat and hide itself from sight.”

Neuvillette said seriously, his lilac eyes growing bright with cautious interest, his slitted gaze flicking analytically over the presented genitals, “But, I will confess. Your development is…” He tilted his head as if searching for a word, “...different yet very pleasing. It speaks and bodes well of stamina and virility.”

Wriothesley frowned and pressed a hand on his abdomen, fingers running down the bunched knots of muscles until he reached the base of the first. His cock reacted at once to his touch, the length arching upwards. He stroked it a few times and leaned back, watching Neuvillette closely. 

“Does having two please you?” 

Neuvillette paused, attempting poorly to keep a neutral expression. He lowered his head, gaze flicking towards Wriothesley’s groin. “I am curious. Although my body is human and in all sensibility, Wriothesley, you should not be putting both inside simultaneously. It might be impossible, and it might hurt you.”

Wriothesley lifted a brow, aware that his other cock underneath the first was, too, rising to attention, and he eased forward with a suggestion: “Now you say it so easily, Monsieur, I am getting interested at what is exactly on your mind.”

Neuvillette closed his eyes and smoothed his tongue on his lower lip. He felt that he might just ignore his self-given warning as a suffused heat spread between his thighs and up his stomach. "But I do not know if I’m absolutely capable of taking in two of you since this has never happened before.”

He took in a prolonged, deep breath and opened his eyes, his expression somber and sincere:

“You should know, Wriothesley, those ancient vishaps had both likely until they found little use for the second appendage. But I believe that in times of great need, such as when the population is low and more hatchlings must be born, the reproduction organs of dragons and their progeny will alter at will. For instance, I have observed the colony on Elynas in the last few years, so—”

He was interrupted by Wriothesley suddenly reaching out and pulling him forward. Neuvillette startled, falling into Wriothesley’s lap, their chests rubbing roughly together. 

“So our bodies will change depending on what seasonal variety it needs to be, hmm? Now, you said you have two penises, Monsieur. Show me how to get that second one out. I am very interested now,” Wriothesley whispered, nuzzling his nose and mouth against the crook of Neuvillette’s neck, “And also, any other secrets your body has been hiding.”

“You know most of the secrets of my body by now, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette murmured, allowing himself to be pulled along, and he felt an arousing sensation as the scales on Wriothesley’s thighs brushed the underside of his butt. “There was never a need for the second penis in any of our intercourse sessions, but if you had asked me to do so, I would have shown it to you.”

“Can’t ask if I never knew it existed, but I would love to see it. This second cock.”

Wriothesley leaned forward, pressing their bodies tightly together, feeling Neuvillette’s cock stiffen against him. “And all these talk… hmm… see, you’re excited, Monsieur. What are you thinking about?”

He tilted his head, kissed the side of Neuvilette’s mouth that was drawn down into a frown, and slipped two fingers into Neuvillette’s cleft, trailing them over his hole, before applying just a bit of pressure. Neuvillette twitched, his fingers gripping onto Wriothesley’s shoulders before he swayed slightly backward. 

“I…I’m thinking of what else you may need to know. At least, you would be able to manage the changes that might happen in these few days or weeks with what information I can provide.”

“More changes?” Wriothesley replied seriously, pulling back and watching Neuvillette’s face. The Iudex’s forehead and nose were flushed deep red, quite the contrast with the rest of his pale body, “Like, hmm… what exactly am I now? You said I am not a dragon, nor I’m a vishap. Heh, maybe I’m an experiment.”

“You are not an experiment,” Neuvillette shook his head as his hands turned into fists on Wriothesley’s chest. “The organization that had harbored vishaps illegally will be found. There will be a way to reverse the changes in your body.”

Wriothesley looked at Neuvillette wordlessly for a few minutes before burying his face against Neuvillette’s collarbone.

“If they can be found,” Wriothesley nipped the side of Neuvillette’s neck gently before cupping Neuvillette’s face with one hand, “Though I just don’t see the need to waste resources on a lost cause. Anyway, I won’t make it difficult for you anymore, Monsieur. Whatever I have become, let’s make a good thing.” 

Neuvillette sighed intently, “A good thing. You have always been optimistic, Wriothesley.”

“Prayers and practicality don’t work together most of the time, Monsieur. You should know me well by now.”

Wriothesley replied a hint of laughter in his tone.

“I believe I do, but you still surprise me,” Neuvillette said lightly. Wriothesley was right. It was better not to think too much or too far for some things.

Wriothesley grinned, moving his hands to smooth over Neuvillette’s hips, “Now that maybe my body can bring you even more pleasure, I would like to find out more what I can do.”

“You’re a very inquisitive man.”

“That’s how and why I fell in love with you, Monsieur.”

He kissed Neuvillette again, this time full on the lips, “And I want to know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything,” Wriothesley slowly ran his fingers up and down Neuvillette’s back, “Show me your scales too, Monsieur. You have been hiding them, am I right?”

Neuvillette bared his teeth slightly. Wriothesely made a humming sound in his throat, wondering if it was just him or that the Iudex’s canines had intriguingly elongated a bare inch — amplifying his resemblance to a rather elegant sea beast.

“If it’s everything you want to know… then put your hand on my stomach, just above the root of my penis.”

Still seated on Wriothesley’s muscular thighs, Neuvillette flexed his legs, widening his thighs to allow Wriothesley enough space to touch him. 

“Now rub your fingers there, slowly, in circles,” Neuvillette watched Wriothesley’s hand intently as he moved to follow the instructions, skimming his fingers over Neuvillette’s flat, lightly-muscled stomach. Neuvillette shuddered, his eyes fluttering to a half-close, his voice shutting down to a whisper, “Almost…you’re almost there. Just continue doing this, and don’t take your hand away.”

Wriothesley pulled delicately at the smooth skin, sliding his fingers up and down in short movements. Neuvillette’s husky voice and the way he trembled so lightly at each stroke only added to Wriothesley’s arousal. He could not help but lower his head, opening his mouth to run his tongue over Neuvillette’s chest, licking a flat nipple slowly before taking it into his mouth, sucking just enough pressure to cause Neuvillette to wince in want.

“Almost,” Neuvillette muttered, and he buried his face against Wriothesley’s shoulder, his cheek rubbing against the stretch of minute flat scales on Wriothesley’s skin, “Almost, just…”

He moaned, bending his back forward, and shuddered. 

Where Wriothesley was stroking, a soft, glistening split had appeared, and his fingers were soon warm and sticky, with fluid that smelled like the ocean, and the reddish tip of a second penis slipped out. He wrapped his fingers gently around the tapered tip, coaxing it with a light grip as the length grew in his hand. 

Wriothesley lowered his slick-covered hand to grasp both of Neuvillette’s cocks together, rubbing them against each other. He kissed Neuvillette’s neck before whispering, “So, you do have two. They are both very pretty, Monsieur.”

He gave both cocks another light squeeze, causing them both to jump in his palm.

Neuvillette let out a gasp and sat up straight, his eyes wide, and he hissed softly, “Slowly, Wriothesley. I have seldom released this…this appendage. I…”

He held himself upright, shaking as Wriothesley curled his fingers around both of Neuvillette’s cocks again, pumping both lengths with more speed and spreading more of that sea-scented fluid on Neuvillette’s warm skin.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Wriothesley said, sliding his hand below to cup Neuvillette’s balls, gathering the wetness in his hand, “You’re extremely wet, Monsieur.”

Neuvillette’s face was very red now and even redder as he heard Wriothesley’s words. He groaned as another pulse of slick leaked from his second cock.

“Wriothesley, if you continue doing this, I will be spent.”

“Ah… we can’t have that first.” Wriothesley nodded and released Neuvillette. “But wait, Monsieur..”

Wriothesley pressed his nose against Neuvillette’s damp neck, smelling him, “You smell so good suddenly. For some reason, I don’t…hmm… have never smelled this from you.”

“Pheromones,” Neuvillette said, the word awkward on his tongue as if he were speaking of it for the first time. You could not have smelled them before. The scent is an identity and a marker. Vishaps would rub their tails against rocks to mark out territory.”

“That’s why this change is a good thing,” Wriothesley declared before Neuvillette went into another round of explanations of vishap behavior on Elynas Island. 

He sniffed at Neuvillette’s skin again, using his other hand to spread the locks of white away, and lapped the tip of his tongue down from Neuvillette’s jaw to his collarbone. “I could eat you. You smell like cold salt water and honey together.”

Wriothesley drew in several deep breaths, and with one hand wrapped around Neuvillette’s shoulder, he pulled them both down onto the bed, propping himself on the pillows with Neuvillette lying next to him. He nosed Neuvillette’s hair and behind his ear, noticing how the honeyed sea-salt scent surrounding Neuvillette had become more alluringly assertive. 

“There is a scent from you as well,” Neuvillette said, finally finding his voice as Wriothesley wrapped his arms around him from behind, “Like the smell of very cold oranges.”

“Oranges,” Wriothesley was amused, “Of all smells, I would not expect myself to smell like oranges.”

He would have expected something more potent and intense, like the smell of oiled metal or waterlogged wood. At least oranges sounded more palatable and pleasing than smelling like he had been working at the fortress's production level for days.

“It might be a result of the bloodline blending in your body,” Neuvillette’s shoulders hunched forward as Wriothesley tried to fit their bodies together. He was quiet for a few before he turned his head halfway to look at Wriothesley, “There’s another thing.”

“What might that be?” Wriothesley pulled Neuvillette close once both of them were comfortably stretched out on the bed.

Neuvillette chewed on his lower lip, “A mating cycle.”

Before Wriothesley could reply, Neuvillette quickly added, “It might happen since your body is now more compatible with mine, and the pheromones we are both releasing… It is the natural process that triggers the cycle to start.”

“Is that different from the usual love-making we do, Monsieur?” Wriothesley nuzzled his nose into Neuvillette’s nape, inhaling that honeyed salty-sweet scent again. He was addicted, definitely, “Will special preparations be needed?”

Neuvillette sighed, turned around, his lilac eyes luminous in the darkness, and admitted ruefully, “I do not know at all, Wriothesley. In all these centuries, you must and should know you are my first, and I have never experienced a mating cycle.”

Wriothesley seemed thoughtful momentarily as he heard a faint trace of worry in Neuvillette’s voice. He kissed Neuvillette’s nape again like a kind of assurance, “Your body seems to be reacting to mine rather well too.”

To emphasize his words, Wriothesley stroked down Neuvillette’s twin cocks, gathering fluid from the tapered tip of the first one, “You’re leaking again, Monsieur. There’s enough here to make you completely wet for me.”

Neuvillette made a soft sound of pleasure when he was touched, and he arched his back, rubbing his ass against Wriothesley’s stomach, “Please touch me more.”

He felt his cocks thicken at the sound of Neuvillette’s plea and felt heat flutter deep in his stomach. The slick on his hands turned viscous, almost like thick translucent honey, and he slipped two fingers into Neuvillette’s cleft, flexing them delicately before sinking them inside.

“So soft,” Wriothesley muttered, sliding his fingers in a little deeper, reveling in how tight it was and yet he could stretch it slowly with more persistence as another finger joined the two. 

“It feels good…keep touching me there. That spot, again…there.” Neuvillette’s voice was low and whispery. He arched his back again, trying to pump himself on Wriothesley’s fingers.

Wriothesley slowly slid his fingers out. After a few more teasing kisses to Neuvillette’s neck and shoulders, he gripped one of his cocks, rubbed it with a few strokes, and pushed the flushed, reddened head against Neuvillette’s wet, glistening opening. Neuvillette pressed his thighs together, causing more fluid from his cocks to drip and gather between them.

“Slow…slowly…” Neuvillette mouthed, all but wordless, and his eyes squeezed tight as Wriothesley’s hands moved to part his thighs wide. 

He felt another trail of sticky fluid leak down his cock, trickling down his thighs. The responsiveness of his body to the dragon blood in Wriothesley was startling — the need to want something inside him was so great that Neuvillette thought he was going to pass out.

“You feel perfect, somehow, so good yet so different…” Wriothesley muttered more to himself as he settled a little on his side, embracing Neuvillette fully and spooning him.

His fingers move to trail Neuvillette’s stomach, tracing patterns on his skin. With one cock fully seated within and the other completely hard and erect, curving against Neuvillette’s flushed ass cheeks, Wriothesley was finding it difficult to control his movements. He wanted to thrust harder, wanted to hear the lurid sounds of soft flesh being pounded hard. 

Maybe it was the scent. Or maybe Wriothesley felt harder and thicker inside him than he remembered. Neuvillette ground his ass down again, trying to get Wriothesley’s cock fully inside him.

“Wriothesley…” He gasped at an especially deep thrust, and he clutched at Wriothesley’s arm, digging his nails in, scratching across his scars, “Too deep…”

“Just a bit more, Monsieur, just a bit more,” He locked his arms around Neuvillette’s sweaty body, fucking him with sharp jerks of his hips.

Neuvillette’s insides fluttered down his cock — the sensation so overwhelming that when Wriothesley pulled himself out halfway, he nearly came.  Catching his breath, he took a glance at his cock, the tip still buried inside Neuvillette. The tiny stretch of silvery-blue scales on the underside of his cock was covered in pale, sticky fluid, and as he pushed again deeply in, he felt Neuvillette tremble violently in his arms. Ever so slowly, he pumped himself in again, delighted to hear Neuvillette crying out in pleasure as he dragged his cock against his lover’s sensitive insides.

Neuvillette’s arms were shivering, and his eyes narrowed to bright violet slits. His hips twitched, and he rolled them desperately, wanting Wriothesley to go deeper. It was not enough for some reason or another; his hazy mind registered, and he ground his ass against Wriothesley’s groin as if begging for something or more. 

“You are behaving like you want my other cock too, Monsieur.”

Wriothesley said quietly, yet he sounded extremely pleased, his words only punctuated by short intakes of air.

Neuvillette’s eyes flew open, and he could barely turn his head back to stare at Wriothesley, “I do not think a human form like mine is meant to take two inside at any time…”

Wriothesley shook his head, “Somehow, we are both not that human anymore, aren’t we? Should we try? I will only do it if you allow me to.”

Neuvillette felt a throbbing sensation in his stomach as Wriothesley watched him intently. 

“I might be just curious how it feels. But if you are in danger, you must immediately take it out.”

Neuvillette sighed as he slowly widened his legs, bending his knees to offer Wriothesley easier access.

Wriothesley laughed, gathering Neuvillette close as he bit down on Neuvillette’s ear, licking the tip, “Monsieur, you’re ridiculous. At this point, I can barely hold my desire for you, and here you are, worrying that I might be in danger.”

“We are… I am not sure what might happen at this point. It is only ideal to take precautions.” Neuvillette said seriously.

Wriothesley only smiled and moved his hands to press on each side of Neuvillette’s ass as he slid his other cock in between, coating the thickening length with Neuvillette’s fluids, “Take in a deep breath, Neuvillette.”

A deep breath was an understatement.

Neuvillette’s eyes blew wide, and his lower jaw hung slack before his hands were pushed against the bed, nails turning into claws as he scrapped at the bedsheets. His hole stretched to accommodate the extra thickness, and he ground down like a greedy creature, wanting both cocks completely in him. His vision seared white the moment both cocks filled him up.

Wriothesley’s bulky arms tightened around him to keep him from flailing and turning away. Neuvillette whimpered, his canines bared, and he huffed another breath as pleasure soon took over the pain of entry. The blunt heads of the double cocks rubbed at places Neuvillette didn’t imagine he had, and that brought him into weak sobs, his swollen hole clenching hungrily on Wriothesley’s cocks. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Wriothesley said, nuzzling the back of Neuvillette’s neck. The honey-salt scent was so strong by now, he was controlling an insane desire to bite down on Neuvillette’s blushing skin.

Instead, he satisfied himself with a few licks, the sweet-saltiness of Neuvillette’s sweat delicious on his tongue.

Neuvillette nodded, his voice strained, “Feels good…it feels very good…”

They both groaned, growling in low gasps as Wriothesley resumed his slow and steady thrusts. He paused momentarily, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in warm, hugging pressure, and he did not forget his lover’s pleasure too. His hands grew busy, fluttering his fingers up and down Neuvillette’s twin cocks, arousing them to such a state that they wept more fluid, making large wet patches on the bedsheets.

Neuvillette heard a rumble, and Wriothesley’s voice rasped into his ear, sending tingles down his spine.

“I can go deeper, do you want that?”

Wriothesley gripped his hands on Neuvillette’s hips, finding smooth skin replaced by bands of scales; not unpleasant to touch but strangely mesmerizing in the way they caught the faint moonlight and flexed each time he stroked Neuvillette’s hips. And was that a gentle glow he thought he was seeing from Neuvillette’s rhinophores? Indeed, the horns were gleaming softly, like a bioluminescent kind of gentle blue, just like how elegant Neuvillette’s beauty was.

“Yes, Wriothesley. I was…I was wrong.”

Wriothesley laughed, sweeping aside Neuvillette’s hair to slowly tease his mouth on those glowing rhinophores, sending another delicious tingle down Neuvillette’s body. He paused and then mouthed huskily against Neuvillette’s ear, making sure his lover heard his words:

“Wrong in a good way. Hmm... so you want that? My two cocks deeper right inside you?”

He was answered with a soft sound of acknowledgment and Neuvillette’s hips rocking against his stomach. Good enough. Wriothesley held Neuvillette’s hips tightly, pressing his leg over Neuvillette’s leg to keep him locked as now he pushed in deep till the scales at his groin scrapped against the soft flesh of Neuvillette’s ass.

So, this was how it felt, Neuvillette thought dizzily. His memories wavered back to one of the nights when he was observing the vishap population on Elynas, and how bemused he was when he watched a mating cycle take place, heard the throaty cries and screams of the mating pair, and wondered to himself, would he ever needed a mate like that or that he was just one of his kind.  Perhaps like what Wriothesley said: this accident was a good thing. Even if it came at a cost.

“What are you thinking about?”

Wriothesley nipped at Neuvillette’s ear, pulling him close and turning his face towards his for a kiss, “You looked so dazed for a moment, I thought you were going to faint.”

Neuvillette’s eyes closed, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks, “No, I was just wondering about your words earlier. This is a good thing.”

He let out a moan as Wriothesley pulled out, and pushed in again, weakly aware of how sensitive his insides felt when the scales on the cock’s underside rubbed against his walls. His body shuddered through waves and waves of arousal, peaking at several highs and crying out Wriothesley’s name when a good spot inside of him was rubbed vigorously. 

“Faster… Wriothesley…fast—”

Wriothesley arched a brow; Neuvillette’s pleas - gently muttered and begged, even the way his eyes glistened with tears, were so adorably elegant. 

“Faster?” Wriothesley asked, obviously teasing.

“Yes, yes—”

“This spot?” He rolled his hips, seemingly pressing against a spot he knew would make Neuvillette cry in delight.

“Yes… yes…there, do it there.”

Wriothesley curled his body flush against Neuvillette and began to piston slowly in and out. The drag of the two heavy cocks made soft, wet sounds, and he pushed in all the way and held himself inside, thinking of what Neuvillette said of mating cycles.

If he’s already this aroused at this stage, what might happen if he’s in heat? Maybe I should eat more meat, punch a few more rounds in the Ring, or drink that milks —

“Wriothesley!”

Neuvillette’s cries brought him back to attention again, and he kissed the Iudex’s trembling, sweating back.

“Wriothesley…” The twin cocks felt so stiff and tight inside him, and yet his body was pulsing with desire for them to penetrate him even deeper. 

“Monsieur,” he kissed Neuvillette’s ear and observed how red it had become. “Are you well? Is this too much?”

Neuvillette shook his head.

“The feeling is different but not unpleasant. I can feel you…here,” Neuvillette gripped Wriothesley’s wrist, moving his hand to place over his stomach, “If you move, I can feel you here, both of yours, here.”

Neuvillette closed his eyes, panting again as he widened his thighs further unconsciously. This wave of lust was new to him; it flowed unstoppable and chaotically; his body reacted insatiable even when his brain was telling him that it was enough and too much!

But Neuvillette was not listening to his brain anymore.

“ Please , I am nearly there.”

He begged, his fingers viciously tangling the bedsheets before him. The twin cocks inside him grew harder, longer, and pulsed against his tightening walls. There was another sensation, fuller, tighter like scaled knots dragging themselves against his insides and pushing everything back in again in a single, smooth thrust.

“Not yet, Monsieur. I want to see you.”

Neuvillette twitched, turning eyes wet and luminous towards Wriothesley. He murmured something like a yes, and allowed himself to be moved, his body feeling extremely boneless and wrapped in intense pleasure.

Wriothesley kept himself rooted deeply inside Neuvillette as he changed their positions, settling his body atop his lover, and kissed his lips.  

He found this new position more arousing, and he knelt between Neuvillette’s open legs, watching his hemipenes slide in and out in long, smooth strokes, each thrust sending Neuvillette into a sharp, pleasure-filled cry. 

Not that Neuvillette was lost in lust, Wriothesley found himself straining to control himself and his cocks rutting against each other, creating sensations he never thought he would feel, to the point of overstimulation. His mind was still semi-lucid enough to keep occasional observations on his cocks and the way Neuvillette was reacting to him. 

Somehow, the scales on the undersides of his cocks grew more pronounced and brighter after being coated in Neuvillette’s fluids; and the bases started to thicken and swell, almost like preparing to be a plug or a knot. 

“It is designed for mating…”

Neuvillette’s voice pierced through Wriothesley’s thoughts, and he looked down to find Neuvillette staring down between his legs, his voice hoarse from whimpering and shouting,  “Your penis… penises will change form during our mating cycle. They will become bigger… to lock us together.”

Neuvillette’s hands held onto Wriothesley’s wrists, and he shook his head, “You’re not ready yet. I am not ready yet, either. But it would be soon.”

Wriothesley looked at Neuvillette’s face, the flushed forehead and reddened ear tips, and how his hips rocked and pushed against him to take him entirely inside. 

“We will go through the cycle together, Monsieur, it will be fine,” 

Wriothesley brushed his fingers against Neuvillette’s face, brushing the damp strands of hair away before tenderly kissing his lover’s mouth. With a few more thrusts, he emptied himself, a genuinely strange sensation as both of his cocks spilled at the same time, the feeling of climax twice as pronounced and overwhelming until Wriothesley thought he might just pass out from it. 

He slowly eased his softening cocks out, slightly amazed by the amount of semen he produced which dribbled copiously down in thick white trails from Neuvillette’s hole.

“So warm…” Neuvillette breathed out, exhausted. His semen coated his stomach, and he was not even sure when he came, and both fresh and old traces streaked his skin all over. He must have orgasmed several times throughout without realizing it. 

Neuvillette let out a long, ragged breath. If this was just regular sexual intercourse, what would mating be like between him and Wriothesley?

He felt Wriothesley’s mouth on his forehead, kissing away his sweat.

Neuvillette closed his eyes, feeling his insides burn in lust at the thought. Before he could doze off, he felt Wriothesley’s hand on his knee; Wriothesley’s thick arm under his back, and Wriothesley’s kisses on his face before Wriothesley hoarsely whispered, “Let’s go to your bathroom, Monsieur, get you cleaned up before we sleep.”