[ That's not a surprise to hear, now that he says it. For someone so focused on hiding, guarding himself, why wouldn't he try to blend in as much as possible? Wrathion's been hiding from those who'd seek to kill or use him for their own ends for his entire life.
Had it even really been a choice, on his part, to remain this way for so long?
Anduin's eyes lift as Wrathion's knuckles drift down the edge of his face, frowning as though in consideration of something. ]
Does it have to be all or nothing? Does it feel any different when you take on some aspects, but not others?
[ It might seem like idle curiosity. It isn't, of course. ]
[Wrathion observes him in turn, shifting his weight onto his other foot as he does so. The next time his knuckles brush against his cheek, it is with the same scaled texture that he'd rested his lips against a moment ago. The sharp point of his nails are likely visible in his peripherals.]
It is usually all or nothing. But that does not mean I am incapable.
[He was not like the Aspects -- his power was great, but his strength was in his ability to blend with the mortal races. Tails and horns and other adornments did not do very much to help him with his goals.]
[ No, likely as not there was no strategic advantage to flaunting his status as a dragon.
There is, however, an immediate effect to doing so.
It's subtle, the way Anduin takes note of the different texture against his skin, the whisper of sharp claws so very close at hand. A slight part to his lips, pulse quickening and pupils swelling. But otherwise he maintains admirable calm for the sudden unexplained thrill that had just gone through him.
Eyes still on Wrathion he tilts his head, a warm kiss ghosting across the dragon's curled fingers, a soft breath exhaled against the inside of his palm. ]
[Oh. Interesting. He is almost certain he just saw...
Well.]
I suppose there is only one way to know -- if you desire to know.
[He doubts very much that many people would seek to indulge such a curiosity. He has to imagine Anduin is unique in this -- unless there were others in the city that were uniquely attracted to reptilian creatures. He hadn't really thought about it before. But he is definitely thinking about it now.
The scales grow a bit thicker in his arms -- something less like a second skin, and something closer to the armor plating her might remember from when he had been large enough to carry him in one hand. The claws of his hand stretch outward, a muscle in his hand twitching from the application of breath.]
Do you?
[Equal parts curious and cautious. He doesn't exactly want to put him ill at ease -- there were plenty of ways this could go wrong, especially given recent events.]
[ Plenty of places to stumble along the way, especially if he thought too much about why. The simplest explanation is that it's Wrathion, and he's attracted to him in any form he takes, because the form is inconsequential.
But then why does the thought send a shiver of anticipation through him?
His tongue darts briefly over his lips, before he shifts closer, hands falling to the waist of the dragon's pants. ]
Were it asked of him alone, without the accompanying body language, he might have made a stronger attempt to talk him out of it. That he did not know what he was asking for, that he might think differently once they started something and they would not know how to finish it.
Were it asked of him by someone other than Anduin, he might have scoffed.
Instead, he pauses in the stroking of his cheek to pull back just enough to reach down and grip Anduin's wrists -- not to stop him for more than a moment, but to assist him in their removal. First, he withdraws enough to discard his boots, a momentary delay. A step or two forward, and he is back within reach of him. And by the time he's undone the front of his pants and pushed them passed his thighs, he hardly resembles anything human beneath them. Armored plating covers much of his abdomen, pebbled scale running down much of his dark skin to compliment it.
Between his legs, the illusion does not quite dissipate all the way, thanks to his attempt to maintain something of a human size and shape. But where Anduin might remember something more human, a strangely and similarly textured cock hangs -- not quite erect, but not completely asleep either. For someone who is perhaps unused to the sight, it might be an intimidating thing to simply behold.
No less than the perhaps familiar scaled tail that eventually joins it behind him, lazily swaying to maintain his balance -- as if it had been there all along. The pads of his thumbs rub over the slim bones he holds between them, the only sign of his uncertainty.]
If it is not what you expected -- you need only say.
[At the same time, he is unsure if he could progress much more without risking a full transformation indoors. It would be an unfortunate end to most of his furnishings, in such case.]
[ There's so little he can compare it to. Neither fully human or dragon, or perhaps just the right combination of both.
Often he's reflected -- usually when Wrathion's colder logic surfaces on a certain matter -- how different he really is from a human, or from any mortal. But seeing him now, glistening and ridged and alien and stunning to behold, it really starts to sink in.
As a dragon, he's absolutely singular. And it is him fidgeting quietly in worry that somehow, Anduin will find him lacking. ]
...you're beautiful. You know that.
[ But he'll say it anyway, brush any doubts from his mind, as a smile dawns on his face and he tilts in to press his mouth to his with renewed enthusiasm.
He knows what he wants, now. The only question is if Wrathion will allow it. ]
[He does know that. But it is something else to hear Anduin confirm it now that he's seen at least half of what he has to offer, enough that it makes a smile spread across his face shortly before he leans in to kiss him again. If there had been any doubt left, it has quickly fled from his mind.
The kiss is returned with equal enthusiasm, though his balance is off now with the addition of a heavy tail. He is forced at least once to steady himself on the other man's shoulders before he picks up on the fact that this isn't a good way to continue this.
The wall is closer than the bed, and so now that he is certain that this is what Anduin wants, he takes the opportunity to leverage his new weight into turning them both and pressing the other man into the wall so that he at least has something to brace them against. And that tail drags along behind him, flicking back and forth with interest.]
[ His plans are briefly disrupted when Wrathion suddenly takes initiative, and his back is planted firmly against the wall. But he hardly minds it. Instead he reaches up, digs his fingers into that thick mass of dark hair to curl against where he remembered there being horns, once, nails gently scratching at his scalp as he draws him back in. ]
You're beautiful, Wrathion.
[ And he wants so, so very much to feel the new weight of him, how his inner heat warms those protective plates and overlaping scales, how the dragon might feel pressed against tender skin and tense muscle now. ]
[Wrathion has, by now, learned the advantages of moving slower and more intimately than his instincts desire. But with Anduin steering him and complimenting him like this, those lessons are swiftly forgotten under that tide of lust.
But, he takes a few moments to enjoy that kiss, pawing at Anduin's torso with those hands that only barely still represent something human. Eventually they travel south to struggle with the clasp of his pants, which he now realizes he should have attempted to open when he was a bit more dexterous. Now, with the placing and claws in the way, it is difficult to make the headway he wants.
He growls with some frustration when he discovers the barrier, groping him insistently in an attempt to get his point across while he is still kissing him. He is naked, and Anduin is not. This is unacceptable.]
A strained, breathy noise catches against Wrathion's mouth when he grasps at him through that stubborn layer of fabric, and even that feels new, different and strange and wonderful. But his point is swiftly being made, nonetheless.
Fortunately, it's a somewhat easier prospect with these new modern clothes, flicking open the button and drawing down the zipper. That allows just enough give in the fabric for Wrathion to continue on as he clearly wants to, while Anduin's teeth nip at his lower lip, nose brushing against his. ]
[Better. Only he forgets to actually voice it once the path is cleared for him, distracted by the teeth at his lip. He makes it just far enough to put his hand back where he had wanted it, pushing fabric out of the way in search of skin. But once he finds his cock, his motions seem to slow down just a little.
Anduin's calm is just calm enough to highlight Wrathion's haste for him -- he was surely rushing to avoid the risk of being caught, despite there being little danger for it. He does not need to think too deeply about it to know that it is true, since it takes conscious effort for him to slow himself.
He takes another half-step backwards, hand sliding away from his cock and back to his waistband in order to assist in peeling Anduin the rest of the way out of his clothes. In doing so, he quickly realizes that he is going to need to be mindful of his claws, in all of this.]
[ It requires untangling himself from Wrathion just enough to press his palms to the wall behind him, to keep his balance while he draws free of his pants, one leg after the other, and there's another moment after that where he stops to simply admire him once more.
And his mind races for all that he wants, all the ways he wants to imprint the dragon upon his memory. His experiences in the city, while not universally pleasant, have taught him a great deal about what he enjoys. What he wants. He's grown bolder in the asking for it.
Smiling, he beckons Wrathion closer once again. ]
I want to do something for you. If you'll allow it.
[There's an energy about Anduin that is different when he invites him close again, something that he can't quite pin down. One eyebrow raises, joined with the slightest tilt of his head as he shifts his weight.
[ As Wrathion moves in, Anduin chuckles himself, before slipping in to press close. To feel the weight of those plated scales against his chest, the texture of him as he grazes against the lean curve of his hip. ]
I can't stop thinking of how much I want to put my mouth on you.
[ The words are murmured against the curve of his ear, as the blond's fingertips skate down over Wrathion's belly, tracing so very delicately against the Black Prince's own cock. ]
All of you.
[ And though his cheeks flush at the words, his voice remains steady even so. ]
[To his credit, he does not laugh. Instead, his brow pinches -- like he does not quite understand what he ought to be laughing at. After all, he quite understands the sentiment. He had spent quite a bit of his time marking Anduin with his mouth.
That is, at least, until his mouth presses to his ear, the fingers brush against him, and comprehension dawns on his face. The surprised expression speaks for him, but the newly grown tail flicks with anticipation.
He had yet to experience it himself -- but he had seen enough of it now, living in the city, that he knows this is a fairly customary act. He would not have imagined Anduin to be interested, but now that he's professed as much...
It sparks something, and a muscle twitches in his thigh as he turns his face downward just enough to rest his lips upon his shoulder for a long moment.]
...I will allow it.
[There's something cautionary that comes with the interest in his tone, indicating that he's not entirely sure how he's going to handle that sort of ... attention. But he is not dissuaded enough to tell him no.]
[ That hitch of hesitation says Wrathion's never had it before. Which almost seems a shame, but at once there's a small degree of pleasure in having this for himself. Being the first to try. ]
You'll like this, I think.
[ There's quiet reassurance in the way his hands lower, smoothing over his hips as he presses a kiss to his jaw. He can see the sway of his tail over Wrathion's shoulder, however, and if he only knew what a tell he'd suddenly developed. Smile broadening at the realization, Anduin starts to sink steadily down onto his knees.
It's a little different for men than it is for women, and he definitely has more experience with the latter than the former, but...
He knows better than to start right away. And besides that, there's so much new territory to explore once he's down, turning his head to kiss a slow trail along the inside of one thigh, lips tracing the pebbled texture of those dark scales. ]
Wrathion is, by now, used to some form of intimate touch -- or, at least, he thought that was the case. There is something different about watching Anduin collapse to his knees in front of him to press kisses upon the scales had that risen to the surface there.
He is suddenly glad for his impatience having bought them toward a wall. If the spasm high in his thigh was any indication, he was going to need it. Wrathion's red eyes watch the path he follows, chest tightening with each press of his lips. Thoughtfully, he reaches to comb a blonde lock of hair out of his face, claws scraping underneath his chin.
[ If he's learned anything, taking it slow the first time is key, and if this truly is Wrathion's first?
But it's so easy to be distracted by him. He trails his mouth warmly across the inner curve of the dragon's thigh, nosing upwards with steady breaths. Meanwhile his palm mirrors the journey upward against Wrathion's other thigh, feeling out the dip and curve of firm muscle under that pebbled texture. Like skin, it feels more delicate here, the scales more fine and smooth.
Then, of course, there's the inevitable brush of his cheek against Wrathion's cock. As the delicate scrape of claws catches under his jaw, blue eyes lift to lock with red. Watching for a moment.
And with their gazes locked, Anduin turns his head to kiss the head oh so very tenderly. ]
[What is that feeling, the one that creeps up his spine and weakens his knees when Anduin looks at him and licks the head of his cock? It is a multitude of feelings, really, and though he was not one to squirm, he finds that his weakening knees and awkward balance require him to shift how he is standing, and lean a little closer to place his other hand upon the wall to brace himself.
The sound of his breath hitching from such a small act is, admittedly, embarrassing. Instinctively, he tries to stuff it downward, which only rewards Anduin with a small twitch of response from his cock. He blinks -- but his eyes stay shut for a fraction longer than might be normal. Despite whatever lingering embarrassment he might feel for his reaction, he is determined not to look away.
He doesn't know where to put that hand under his chin now, except to run his claws over his scalp with some encouragement.]
And so he doesn't. His fingers find purchase against the base of his cock, against the unique shape and feel of him, and he turns his head to continue. One kiss turns into another, into a warm lick, into a gentle sucking before drawing back again, his breath warm against damp skin, all played around the head of his cock.
He doesn't expect the reactions to be as overt or obvious as they might be otherwise, with someone else, but he's happy to try to gauge what pleases him best all the same. ]
[It is a large amount of stimulation. Wrathion's breathing alternates between something shallow and something deep, like he cannot quite decide if he wants to relax or if he isn't ready to. But there is no way to deny that he is enjoying this -- admittedly profane act.
But when Anduin's mouth pops off of him, his hips jerk and an involuntary groan sneaks past his lips. Wrathion finds himself seeking to hide his face in his own arm instinctually, as if there was any way to hide how every muscle in his body had tensed up in pleasure. He had not anticipated just how intimate this would be. The hand that had briefly combed over his scalp had momentarily sought purchase there, threaded through the hair drawn back without undoing the tie.
Behind him, his tail has become heavy, save for the occasional spasms triggered by Anduin's mouth working over his cock.]
[ His eyes rise at the groan, watching the telltale twitches and shivers play out across his face, his body. Rather than letting himself come apart, Wrathion is rather predictably trying -- and failing -- to hold himself together.
Rather than tease him for it, the blond draws back enough to press a kiss instead to the jut of his hip, allowing him space to breathe, to piece himself back together if he wishes. The tip of his tongue darts briefly over his lips. ]
Should I slow down?
[ He can. If he wants. If that's what it takes for him to find a way to enjoy this the way it's meant to be enjoyed. ]
[Though his voice doesn't quite crack. There is a hoarse quality about it. He knows what Anduin said, of course. But he instantly feels the loss of his mouth, and he shoves another resulting shiver down in order to focus on the man between his legs again.
He clears his throat before trying to speak. The hand fisted in his hair relaxes as a result -- and eventually withdraws.]
No. No, you don't have to slow down.
[He pauses. His tail turns over itself as he processes a thought. Wrathion is self aware enough to understand that there is something he is doing that made Anduin stop, but not necessarily enough to pick up on the why. And he is certain that he wants to do this -- even if the aspect of being so vulnerable and turning over control still discomforts him on some level.]
Is there something I am doing incorrectly?
[Best to ask. As long as they are not laughing at one another.]
[ He misses the hand as soon as it's gone, but he tempers his disappointment, instead leaning in to start kissing a trail back inwards, before starting to rub his cheek gently against the warm, ridged shaft. ]
I was wondering if there was something I did.
[ But if it's just a matter of Wrathion taking longer to let go, he can work with that.
It felt as if they might have been someplace close, and he starts anew with a delicate swipe of his tongue over the tip of his cock. ]
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Had it even really been a choice, on his part, to remain this way for so long?
Anduin's eyes lift as Wrathion's knuckles drift down the edge of his face, frowning as though in consideration of something. ]
Does it have to be all or nothing? Does it feel any different when you take on some aspects, but not others?
[ It might seem like idle curiosity. It isn't, of course. ]
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[Wrathion observes him in turn, shifting his weight onto his other foot as he does so. The next time his knuckles brush against his cheek, it is with the same scaled texture that he'd rested his lips against a moment ago. The sharp point of his nails are likely visible in his peripherals.]
It is usually all or nothing. But that does not mean I am incapable.
[He was not like the Aspects -- his power was great, but his strength was in his ability to blend with the mortal races. Tails and horns and other adornments did not do very much to help him with his goals.]
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There is, however, an immediate effect to doing so.
It's subtle, the way Anduin takes note of the different texture against his skin, the whisper of sharp claws so very close at hand. A slight part to his lips, pulse quickening and pupils swelling. But otherwise he maintains admirable calm for the sudden unexplained thrill that had just gone through him.
Eyes still on Wrathion he tilts his head, a warm kiss ghosting across the dragon's curled fingers, a soft breath exhaled against the inside of his palm. ]
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Well.]
I suppose there is only one way to know -- if you desire to know.
[He doubts very much that many people would seek to indulge such a curiosity. He has to imagine Anduin is unique in this -- unless there were others in the city that were uniquely attracted to reptilian creatures. He hadn't really thought about it before. But he is definitely thinking about it now.
The scales grow a bit thicker in his arms -- something less like a second skin, and something closer to the armor plating her might remember from when he had been large enough to carry him in one hand. The claws of his hand stretch outward, a muscle in his hand twitching from the application of breath.]
Do you?
[Equal parts curious and cautious. He doesn't exactly want to put him ill at ease -- there were plenty of ways this could go wrong, especially given recent events.]
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But then why does the thought send a shiver of anticipation through him?
His tongue darts briefly over his lips, before he shifts closer, hands falling to the waist of the dragon's pants. ]
Show me.
[ A request, masquerading as a quiet demand. ]
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Were it asked of him alone, without the accompanying body language, he might have made a stronger attempt to talk him out of it. That he did not know what he was asking for, that he might think differently once they started something and they would not know how to finish it.
Were it asked of him by someone other than Anduin, he might have scoffed.
Instead, he pauses in the stroking of his cheek to pull back just enough to reach down and grip Anduin's wrists -- not to stop him for more than a moment, but to assist him in their removal. First, he withdraws enough to discard his boots, a momentary delay. A step or two forward, and he is back within reach of him. And by the time he's undone the front of his pants and pushed them passed his thighs, he hardly resembles anything human beneath them. Armored plating covers much of his abdomen, pebbled scale running down much of his dark skin to compliment it.
Between his legs, the illusion does not quite dissipate all the way, thanks to his attempt to maintain something of a human size and shape. But where Anduin might remember something more human, a strangely and similarly textured cock hangs -- not quite erect, but not completely asleep either. For someone who is perhaps unused to the sight, it might be an intimidating thing to simply behold.
No less than the perhaps familiar scaled tail that eventually joins it behind him, lazily swaying to maintain his balance -- as if it had been there all along. The pads of his thumbs rub over the slim bones he holds between them, the only sign of his uncertainty.]
If it is not what you expected -- you need only say.
[At the same time, he is unsure if he could progress much more without risking a full transformation indoors. It would be an unfortunate end to most of his furnishings, in such case.]
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Often he's reflected -- usually when Wrathion's colder logic surfaces on a certain matter -- how different he really is from a human, or from any mortal. But seeing him now, glistening and ridged and alien and stunning to behold, it really starts to sink in.
As a dragon, he's absolutely singular. And it is him fidgeting quietly in worry that somehow, Anduin will find him lacking. ]
...you're beautiful. You know that.
[ But he'll say it anyway, brush any doubts from his mind, as a smile dawns on his face and he tilts in to press his mouth to his with renewed enthusiasm.
He knows what he wants, now. The only question is if Wrathion will allow it. ]
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The kiss is returned with equal enthusiasm, though his balance is off now with the addition of a heavy tail. He is forced at least once to steady himself on the other man's shoulders before he picks up on the fact that this isn't a good way to continue this.
The wall is closer than the bed, and so now that he is certain that this is what Anduin wants, he takes the opportunity to leverage his new weight into turning them both and pressing the other man into the wall so that he at least has something to brace them against. And that tail drags along behind him, flicking back and forth with interest.]
I don't tire of hearing you say it.
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[ His plans are briefly disrupted when Wrathion suddenly takes initiative, and his back is planted firmly against the wall. But he hardly minds it. Instead he reaches up, digs his fingers into that thick mass of dark hair to curl against where he remembered there being horns, once, nails gently scratching at his scalp as he draws him back in. ]
You're beautiful, Wrathion.
[ And he wants so, so very much to feel the new weight of him, how his inner heat warms those protective plates and overlaping scales, how the dragon might feel pressed against tender skin and tense muscle now. ]
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But, he takes a few moments to enjoy that kiss, pawing at Anduin's torso with those hands that only barely still represent something human. Eventually they travel south to struggle with the clasp of his pants, which he now realizes he should have attempted to open when he was a bit more dexterous. Now, with the placing and claws in the way, it is difficult to make the headway he wants.
He growls with some frustration when he discovers the barrier, groping him insistently in an attempt to get his point across while he is still kissing him. He is naked, and Anduin is not. This is unacceptable.]
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A strained, breathy noise catches against Wrathion's mouth when he grasps at him through that stubborn layer of fabric, and even that feels new, different and strange and wonderful. But his point is swiftly being made, nonetheless.
Fortunately, it's a somewhat easier prospect with these new modern clothes, flicking open the button and drawing down the zipper. That allows just enough give in the fabric for Wrathion to continue on as he clearly wants to, while Anduin's teeth nip at his lower lip, nose brushing against his. ]
Better?
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Anduin's calm is just calm enough to highlight Wrathion's haste for him -- he was surely rushing to avoid the risk of being caught, despite there being little danger for it. He does not need to think too deeply about it to know that it is true, since it takes conscious effort for him to slow himself.
He takes another half-step backwards, hand sliding away from his cock and back to his waistband in order to assist in peeling Anduin the rest of the way out of his clothes. In doing so, he quickly realizes that he is going to need to be mindful of his claws, in all of this.]
...better.
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And his mind races for all that he wants, all the ways he wants to imprint the dragon upon his memory. His experiences in the city, while not universally pleasant, have taught him a great deal about what he enjoys. What he wants. He's grown bolder in the asking for it.
Smiling, he beckons Wrathion closer once again. ]
I want to do something for you. If you'll allow it.
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His hands move to rest upon his waist.]
I'm listening.
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[ As Wrathion moves in, Anduin chuckles himself, before slipping in to press close. To feel the weight of those plated scales against his chest, the texture of him as he grazes against the lean curve of his hip. ]
I can't stop thinking of how much I want to put my mouth on you.
[ The words are murmured against the curve of his ear, as the blond's fingertips skate down over Wrathion's belly, tracing so very delicately against the Black Prince's own cock. ]
All of you.
[ And though his cheeks flush at the words, his voice remains steady even so. ]
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That is, at least, until his mouth presses to his ear, the fingers brush against him, and comprehension dawns on his face. The surprised expression speaks for him, but the newly grown tail flicks with anticipation.
He had yet to experience it himself -- but he had seen enough of it now, living in the city, that he knows this is a fairly customary act. He would not have imagined Anduin to be interested, but now that he's professed as much...
It sparks something, and a muscle twitches in his thigh as he turns his face downward just enough to rest his lips upon his shoulder for a long moment.]
...I will allow it.
[There's something cautionary that comes with the interest in his tone, indicating that he's not entirely sure how he's going to handle that sort of ... attention. But he is not dissuaded enough to tell him no.]
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You'll like this, I think.
[ There's quiet reassurance in the way his hands lower, smoothing over his hips as he presses a kiss to his jaw. He can see the sway of his tail over Wrathion's shoulder, however, and if he only knew what a tell he'd suddenly developed. Smile broadening at the realization, Anduin starts to sink steadily down onto his knees.
It's a little different for men than it is for women, and he definitely has more experience with the latter than the former, but...
He knows better than to start right away. And besides that, there's so much new territory to explore once he's down, turning his head to kiss a slow trail along the inside of one thigh, lips tracing the pebbled texture of those dark scales. ]
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Wrathion is, by now, used to some form of intimate touch -- or, at least, he thought that was the case. There is something different about watching Anduin collapse to his knees in front of him to press kisses upon the scales had that risen to the surface there.
He is suddenly glad for his impatience having bought them toward a wall. If the spasm high in his thigh was any indication, he was going to need it. Wrathion's red eyes watch the path he follows, chest tightening with each press of his lips. Thoughtfully, he reaches to comb a blonde lock of hair out of his face, claws scraping underneath his chin.
Well. He certainly doesn't dislike it so far.]
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But it's so easy to be distracted by him. He trails his mouth warmly across the inner curve of the dragon's thigh, nosing upwards with steady breaths. Meanwhile his palm mirrors the journey upward against Wrathion's other thigh, feeling out the dip and curve of firm muscle under that pebbled texture. Like skin, it feels more delicate here, the scales more fine and smooth.
Then, of course, there's the inevitable brush of his cheek against Wrathion's cock. As the delicate scrape of claws catches under his jaw, blue eyes lift to lock with red. Watching for a moment.
And with their gazes locked, Anduin turns his head to kiss the head oh so very tenderly. ]
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The sound of his breath hitching from such a small act is, admittedly, embarrassing. Instinctively, he tries to stuff it downward, which only rewards Anduin with a small twitch of response from his cock. He blinks -- but his eyes stay shut for a fraction longer than might be normal. Despite whatever lingering embarrassment he might feel for his reaction, he is determined not to look away.
He doesn't know where to put that hand under his chin now, except to run his claws over his scalp with some encouragement.]
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And so he doesn't. His fingers find purchase against the base of his cock, against the unique shape and feel of him, and he turns his head to continue. One kiss turns into another, into a warm lick, into a gentle sucking before drawing back again, his breath warm against damp skin, all played around the head of his cock.
He doesn't expect the reactions to be as overt or obvious as they might be otherwise, with someone else, but he's happy to try to gauge what pleases him best all the same. ]
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[It is a large amount of stimulation. Wrathion's breathing alternates between something shallow and something deep, like he cannot quite decide if he wants to relax or if he isn't ready to. But there is no way to deny that he is enjoying this -- admittedly profane act.
But when Anduin's mouth pops off of him, his hips jerk and an involuntary groan sneaks past his lips. Wrathion finds himself seeking to hide his face in his own arm instinctually, as if there was any way to hide how every muscle in his body had tensed up in pleasure. He had not anticipated just how intimate this would be. The hand that had briefly combed over his scalp had momentarily sought purchase there, threaded through the hair drawn back without undoing the tie.
Behind him, his tail has become heavy, save for the occasional spasms triggered by Anduin's mouth working over his cock.]
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Rather than tease him for it, the blond draws back enough to press a kiss instead to the jut of his hip, allowing him space to breathe, to piece himself back together if he wishes. The tip of his tongue darts briefly over his lips. ]
Should I slow down?
[ He can. If he wants. If that's what it takes for him to find a way to enjoy this the way it's meant to be enjoyed. ]
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[Though his voice doesn't quite crack. There is a hoarse quality about it. He knows what Anduin said, of course. But he instantly feels the loss of his mouth, and he shoves another resulting shiver down in order to focus on the man between his legs again.
He clears his throat before trying to speak. The hand fisted in his hair relaxes as a result -- and eventually withdraws.]
No. No, you don't have to slow down.
[He pauses. His tail turns over itself as he processes a thought. Wrathion is self aware enough to understand that there is something he is doing that made Anduin stop, but not necessarily enough to pick up on the why. And he is certain that he wants to do this -- even if the aspect of being so vulnerable and turning over control still discomforts him on some level.]
Is there something I am doing incorrectly?
[Best to ask. As long as they are not laughing at one another.]
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[ He misses the hand as soon as it's gone, but he tempers his disappointment, instead leaning in to start kissing a trail back inwards, before starting to rub his cheek gently against the warm, ridged shaft. ]
I was wondering if there was something I did.
[ But if it's just a matter of Wrathion taking longer to let go, he can work with that.
It felt as if they might have been someplace close, and he starts anew with a delicate swipe of his tongue over the tip of his cock. ]
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