what about mountain and dew high together and dew gets the courage to top mountain. but mountain thinks it's adorable (but he doesn't let dew know that) and he let's dew top him
oh hell yeah
(this is maybe not exactly what you asked for but uhhhh just go with it lmao)
Cozy.
That's the word Mountain would use to describe his current state. Sprawled on the floor of the greenhouse, high as a kite and basking in the scent of turned earth and humid air. Watching early spring rain pour over the angled glass roof, accompanied by the low rumble of distant thunder and the rare flash of lightning. His favorite sort of weather.
The press of a small body on top of his own has him purring, and it's loud enough to drown out the thunder.
"You're so high," comes a light voice from above him, and Mountain chuckles.
"Like you aren't," he murmurs, sluggishly lifting his head. Dew is definitely at least as stoned as he is, red-eyed and twirling a lock of silver hair around an elegant finger. It's a good look for him.
"Maaaaybe," the little ghoul sing-songs, resting his chin on Mountain's chest and giving him a goofy grin. "You complaining?"
"Never," Mountain rumbles, wrapping long arms around Dew and giving him a squeeze. It wrings a chirp from those pretty pink lips, a sweet sound that hits Mountain in all the right places.
They've been here for a while now, long before the rain started. Dew is a frequent visitor in the spring, happy to finally be outside again without the wintery chill biting into his flesh. The hazards of being a water ghoul, Mountain supposes. Dew is a different person in the greenhouse - soft and quiet, tapping into his power to help him mist the plants and re-pot overgrown foliage. They fall into a routine, and it's the only time Mountain has ever seen Dew content to attend to something like a chore.
Maybe that has something to do with what always happens after they finish work. When Mountain breaks out his secret stash of the good shit and they end up in just this spot, loose and comfortable and lost in a decidedly purple haze.
Mountain drags broad palms over Dew's back and the little ghoul hums his appreciation, mirroring the motion along Mountain's sides. Casual touches, the pair of them tactile and blissfully caught up in simple sensation. Mountain watches Dew's face as they feel one another, watches his eyes darken and his smile gain a lascivious tilt. He licks his lips, and Mountain's stomach gives a delightful little swoop.
"Come here," he says, and Dew needs no further invitation.
He shimmies up just enough to catch Mountain in a languid kiss, slow and decadent in a way Dew only gets when he's stoned. His long fingers thread into Mountain's hair at the same time Dew licks into his mouth, thumbs grazing the tender place where his horns meet his skin, and Mountain can't hold back his groan.
His own hands stroke over the little ghoul's back, rippling his already wrinkled shirt and tracing the ridge of his spine. Subtly lifting it, exposing the soft skin of Dew's lower back to his wandering fingertips. Mountain drags them along Dew's waistband while Dew busies himself sucking on his tongue, and the sound he makes when Mountain's callused digits sneak into his jeans is simply divine.
"Grabby," he accuses, tugging at Mountain's lower lip with playful fangs. "Lookin' for somethin'?" Mountain hums, leaning up to lick a drop of saliva from the corner of Dew's mouth.
"Could ask you the same thing," he replies, pressing against Dew's ass. It forces the little ghoul to rut against his stomach, and the press of his stiff little dick into his belly has them both groaning. Not that he's alone there, Mountain's been chubbed up against his zipper since Dew took up residence on his chest.
Dew catches him in another kiss then, but there's a new hunger in it. An eagerness matched by the way the little ghoul rocks his hips, grinding into the slight softness of Mountain's belly. He can feel the wet spot on Dew's jeans already, the sea-sweet aroma of his arousal mixing with the heady floral scent surrounding them. If Mountain slipped curious fingers between his cheeks, he knows Dew would be all wet there too.
But when he tries to do just that, Dew chitters and pulls away.
"Wait, wait," he huffs, resting his forehead against Mountain's and giving him a perfect view of bloodshot seafoam eyes and pink cheeks.
"Something wrong, droplet?" He gets both hands on Dew's ass, gives it a solid squeeze. "I can tell you want it." He tugs those slim hips against him once more and relishing the little shiver Dew gives in return.
"Yeah," he breathes, low, "yeah, but not - I don't -"
He fiddles with Mountain's hair, carding his fingers through think auburn strands while he stumbles over his words. Mountain rubs his nose against the little ghoul's, affectionate and encouraging. It's interesting to see Dew hesitant, he's not usually one that has trouble saying what he wants.
"What is it, angelfish? Is there -"
"I wanna fuck you."
He says it in all in a rush, and Mountain's words catch in his throat. His hands still as the gears in his head turn, processing Dew's request. The little ghoul searches his face for a moment before he leans back down, nuzzling Mountain's jaw and giving his earlobe a nibble. He sighs, stretching his neck as Dew starts to kiss his way down it. Wet and filthy.
"You...you what?"
"Wanna give it to you," Dew mutters, the words soft but insistent. "Wanna...wanna stick it in, can I?"
The way he asks could almost be called innocent, but the nasty little hump he gives Mountain's stomach is anything but. It makes his head spin, makes his cock throb where it's trapped against his hip. It's something Dew has never asked for, something he didn't even know the little ghoul would want. It's rare that anyone asks Mountain if they can fuck him, and Dew being so blunt about it is doing funny things to his insides.
Or maybe that's just the cool slide of that skilled tongue along his pulse point. Hard to say.
Either way, he knows the answer.
"Yeah," Mountain says with a sigh, hands slipping up Dew's shirt to hold him close. "Fuck, yeah you can."
Any slowness gets thrown out the window the moment the words are out, Dew wriggling out of Mountain's grasp and sliding down to kneel between his legs. It only takes a moment for the little ghoul to divest Mountain of his pants, and even less time for Dew to wrap his lips around the ruddy head of his cock and give it a firm suck.
"Oh, oh -" Mountain gasps as Dew takes him deeper, reaching down to lace his fingers into long, silver hair. "D-Dew, shit..."
The little ghoul works him purposefully, bobbing his head over the first few inches of Mountain's thick cock, one hand working the rest while his other fumbles with his own belt. Mountain groans low in his throat while he watches the show - watches Dew drool down his shaft and dip down to lick at his balls, watches him kick off his own jeans and boxers. Watches him pull back to kneel between his spread thighs, that hand still wrapped around the base of his wet length, lips slick and swollen.
Dew's own cock juts out from his lap, pink and shiny and so hard it's curved up towards his stomach. Mountain's mouth waters at the sight of it, and when he licks his lips he has the pleasure of watching it spit a blob of pre that dribbles down his short, slender shaft. If he were in a teasing mood he'd call it cute, but the look Dew gives him - starved and needy - helps him keep the thought to himself.
Dew gives him one last tug, long and slow, rubbing over the frenulum long enough to make him hiss before letting go. It falls against Mountain's shirt with a wet slap, makes him grunt, but all his attention is focused on Dew. On the hungry look in his eye, the flush of his cheeks and the tension threaded through his slim form. He grips Mountain's thighs, spreads them wide, and when the rough tips of two fingers graze his hole Mountain shudders.
"Good?"
"S'nice," Mountain slurs, his own hands idly running over his own chest. Fiddling with his nipples through his shirt for something to do. "Keep going. Get me ready."
Truthfully, Dew could probably fuck him with no prep. Could slide that sweet little stiffy of his right inside with no trouble. Sure, it might sting for a second, but beyond that?
But saying it is worth it for the moan Dew gives him, tight and pained and paired with a strong kick of that small cock. Makes it hit his t-shirt, leaving a cute little wet spot behind. He gets a hand on himself immediately, giving it a firm squeeze.
"Hold your legs," Dew says, shaky and thick. "Lemme see it, wanna see it."
His voice cracks at the end, and Mountain obliges. Hooks his hands behind his knees and pulls those long legs to his chest. Holds himself open, exposes the most secret part of himself in a way that would have him blushing if he were even a little bit more sober.
Now, though? Now he's too caught up in the way Dew's brow furrows at the sight. In the way he sucks his lower lip between his fangs when Mountain clenches.
"Pretty," Dew breathes, wiggling a fingertip over wrinkled skin just enough to tickle. To make it wink against the pad of his finger. Dew's slight shoulders hunch with it, he makes a strangled sound, and Mountain leaks onto his own shirt.
"Gonna stretch it out?" He feels breathless already, and he really doesnt know why. Must have something to so with the stunned look Dew wears. "Fill me up?"
"Uh huh," Dew says, slack jawed and staring at the way his hole twitches. He sounds so adorably stupid like this, and Mountain can't resist pushing just a little bit further.
"Gonna make me take it?"
The little ghoul's face crumples as he gives a frantic nod, and then he's moving. Pulling back the hand that was teasing Mountain's hole and using two fingers to polish the sticky head of his cock. Smearing pre over the digits and getting them nice and slick. There's always so much of it, a leaky tap thanks to his water ghoul nature. Mountain rarely has to use lube when he carves a place for himself in that tiny body, and he's ever so pleased to see that it works both ways.
Dew spreads the mess over his entrance, presses a spidery finger inside, and oh it's good. Better that it should be for how little stimulation there is, helped along no doubt by the high and the anticipation. By the way Dew's already panting as he pumps that single digit in and out, crooking it on each slide in until he finds the spot that makes Mountain's thighs quiver.
"Yeah, right there," he groans, letting his head thump back against the floor while Dew massages him just right. Presses against his prostate and makes his cock spit more fluid onto his already damp shirt.
"More?"
Dew sounds lost, somehow. Like he can't believe this is happening. Mountain grunts his assent and Dew pulls his finger back, sliding in with two this time. It's enough of a stretch to really feel now, a tingly burn that lights up Mountain's nerves and has him moaning deep in his chest.
Dew whimpers at the feel of him clenching around his fingers, hunting again for that sweet spot. He finds it quicker this time, and when he puts blessed pressure on it Mountain goes boneless on the greenhouse floor.
"Dew, oh fuck, Dew -"
"Is it...good?" Poor thing sounds so unsure. So needy for reassurance. Who is Mountain to deny him?
"So good," he mutters, rocking his hips in an effort to take those wonderful fingers even deeper. "You're doing so good, don't stop, oh -"
His back arches when Dew curls his fingers just right, and he can hear the moment the little ghoul loses his patience. It comes in the form of a stuttered whine and Dew's other hand flying to Mountain's thigh. Holding on for dear life. The one inside him goes still, and Dew's breathing is so harsh you'd think he'd been running a marathon.
"Mount...Mount, can I?" He pulls those talented fingers back, lining himself up and nudging the flared head against that hole instead. Prodding at it. "Please, I gotta - gotta feel you, please -"
He wants to watch. To see the undoubtedly shocked look on Dew's face when he finally pushes that slippery little dick of his into the hot clutch of his body. Wants to drink down the hurt cries of pleasure that he can already imagine filling the room, to lose himself in the filthy slap of skin on skin.
But he can't. Can't lift his head. Can't take his eyes off the sheets of rain washing over the roof. Can't focus on anything but the ache in balls and the gentle press of Dew's cock at his entrance. Waiting for permission.
He'll have to be less high next time they do this.
"Go on," he encourages, hitching his knees higher, "put it in. Give it to me."
Dew digs his claws into Mountain's thighs, presses forward, and Mountain doesn't know which of them is louder. He slides in so easily, so smoothly, further and further until their hips meet and they're both left gasping.
Dew's babbling, he can hear it, but there's no sense to the words. A reaction to sheer overwhelm, to heat and pressure and the newness of it all. His hands stroke feverishly over Mountain's skin, from his ass to the backs of his knees. Self soothing more than anything else. Mountain can feel him pulsing inside, so very hard, and to his utter delight that little cock is just long enough to nudge perfectly at his prostate.
"You feel so good," he sighs, and Dew throbs. Mountain clamps down around him, and Dew sobs. He forces himself to look then, and it's enough to have the knot of pleasure in his stomach tightening.
Dew looks beautiful, flushed right down his throat. If he didn't have a shirt on, Mountain knows he'd be painted pink right down to the nipples he can see poking though thin cotton. He's sweaty at his hairline, silver strands plastered to his cheeks and forehead. His top lip is curled back, exposing the chipped, crowded fangs that everyone finds so charming. His chin shines, slick with drool that has dripped down to soak into his shirt. He's wrecked already, and Mountain can't resist clenching again just to see him wince.
"C'mon, droplet," he coos, "be a good boy and fuck me like you mean it."
Featuring: Dom!Rain. Sub!Mountain. Switch!Swiss. Top Rain. Bottom Mountain. Finger Sucking. Spit. Cum Eating. Oral Sex. Anal Sex. Improper Restraint Tools. Rimming. Overstimulation. Spit as Lube. Just, honestly, a lot of spit. Kink Negotiation happens off screen. Mountain just wants to be a good boy. Rain’s a little mean. Swiss doesn’t have any idea when to shut his mouth.
