Tea & Paperwork

Is this Love? Is this Sin?

Wriothesley talks Neuvillette into committing some sins.

CW: Contains Smut

--

"So, hypothetically," starts Wriothesley, which never bodes well. "You're the Hydro Sovereign."

Neuvillette looks up from his paperwork. "That is not a hypothetical." It was a secret, yes, but with the death of Focalors, and the return of Neuvillette's Authority, Wriothesley is well aware of this now. In fact, he won't shut up about it.

"Hang on, let me finish." Wriothesley drags a hand through his hair. He leans against the edge of Neuvillette's desk, and it sways slightly with the movement. "With you being the Sovereign Hydro dragon, does that—hypothetically—mean that having me as a mate is problematic?"

That is a particularly stupid question. Neuvillette may have kept his nature close to his chest, but it has never been a secret. It merely went undiscussed because there was never a purpose of mentioning it. Wriothesley and Neuvillette conduct their work the same, regardless of his status.

"Wriothesley—"

"I know that look," says Wriothesley. "You're thinking about this too hard."

Neuvillette frowns. "You asked me if having you as a partner would be considered problematic."

"I—" Wriothesley laughs, pushing away from the desk, dropping into Neuvillette's lap instead. "I meant it as a tease, I promise."

"A tease," repeats Neuvillette. "For what reason?"

"Because it's fun to roleplay?"

Neuvillette tilts his hand, forgetting about his work for a moment. He still holds his pen, still has a hand against a stack of reports, his arm curled around Wriothesley's side, but no longer is his attention split in half. "Roleplay?"

"Yeah, you know..." Wriothesley drags a hand down Neuvillette's front, tugging lightly at the lace trim of his robes. "A human and not just a dragon, but the dragon, together. And not only that, the Duke of the Underworld, leader of criminals himself, sharing house with the Chief Justice. Scandalous, no?"

Neuvillette fails to see how any of this is relevant, or has even changed. They've played house long enough for people to stop raising eyebrows and just accept it. But, then comes the thought again: roleplay.

An impromptu, unscheduled work meeting. Wriothesley sweeps his fingers over his clothing and sits in his lap, not caring that Neuvillette is trying to work. "You like that," he says, leaning back in his chair. "My Authority, how it compares to you."

Wriothesley hums, his fingers dipping lower, knuckles brushing against Neuvillette's stomach. Even through his clothing, the touch sparks heat. A blessing and a curse.

Neuvillette drops his pen and presses that hand against Wriothesley's waist. "Which comes as no surprise, of course. You've always been fascinated by those parts of myself."

"Mmhm, some of my favorite bits of you."

Neuvillette chuckles softly, pulling Wriothesley forward, guiding him to straddling his thighs properly. "I'm well aware. Is this why you've sought me out so readily today?"

"I miss you, actually." Settled across his lap, Wriothesley's head is a little bit higher. He rests his forearms against Neuvillette's shoulders, fingers petting at the flyaways of his hair. "Ever since our dear Archon... well, I don't want to speak of the dead, ill or not. Makes for bad pillow talk—"

"There are no pillows here," teases Neuvillette.

"But you are. We've been working too much, and it's been too long since I've seen you."