Tea & Paperwork

A Mess of Things

Neuvillette is more than willing to clean up his messes.

CW: Contains Smut

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"You like to stare, don't you? Enjoying the mess that you made?"

Yes. Yes. Wriothesley teases him but Wriothesley also has no idea what he looks like when haloed in the glow of post-orgasmic bliss. Even spent, Neuvillette cannot stop looking, eyes washing over the curve of Wriothesley's back. His hand follows, tracing the knobs of Wriothesley's spine, claws dragging over sweaty skin and scars.

Pale scales shimmer, evidence of just how far he's gone, of how needy he'd been when fucking Wriothesley. And now that cycle continues as he stares, watching his semen drip from his pink, abused hole.

Wriothesley fidgets. "I should go—"

Neuvillette holds him in place firmly. Wriothesley hovers over his lap, balancing himself against Neuvillette's thighs, fingers digging into the meat of them. "Hey," he continues, shooting a glance over his shoulder, "I need to clean up before—"

"Before what?" Neuvillette's palm settles against an asscheek, squeezing at it.

"It'll congeal—"

Neuvillette hums, ignoring that horrific word, and slides a thumb down the crease of Wriothesley's ass. He spreads him open, taking that damned look he was teased about before. Wriothesley is loose, well-fucked, and leaking his come. That thumb circles, pressing against Wriothesley's rim, sinking in to the first knuckle. "Soft," murmurs Neuvillette in awe, tugging at the muscle, watching it spread eagerly.

"Neuvillette, that's—"

"Delightful."

"Look, I know I poked fun, but I'm serious about cleaning up—"

"Then allow me," offers Neuvillette. Wriothesley stills. His gaze turns cat-eyed and sultry, which is a gaze that only spells trouble. Neuvillette tugs at his hips and politely requests, "Come here, please."

Wriothesley shuffles back until he's settled across Neuvillette's chest, balls resting against his sternum. "What's going on in that old fish brain of yours?"

Neuvillette shoots him a cool look. "Fish brain," he drawls, less than amused. He sweeps his thumb through the mess that dribbles from Wriothesley's ass in globs. It is stupid; this particular instinct, the innate desire to see his mate covered in his spend, tacky with it, smelling of it, but Neuvillette cannot help it.

Still.

"I was going to clean you up myself, but if you're going to make fun of me—"

"I'd rather call it an affectionate jab."

"Affectionate or not..."

Wriothesley wiggles his hips and Neuvillette trails off, distracted. This, too, cannot be helped. Neuvillette is a simple man and enjoys Wriothesley's rather... generous backside.

"Is this where I should make a joke about how you should eat cake—"

"Wriothesley." Neuvillette squeezes both of his asscheeks and tugs him even closer. "Wriothesley," he murmurs right before sinking his teeth into the meat of Wriothesley's ass.

A sharp yelp fills the air. Wriothesley's nails dig into Neuvillette's thigh, but despite his cry, he bucks back against his mouth. A glutton for punishment and a mild amount of pain. Neuvillette loves the taste of this skin and the pinpricks left behind by his teeth. Marks—oh, he loves to leave marks, even in places where no one else will see them. He'll know, and he'll trace them later, dragging his fingers across the bruises left in his wake.