It hadn't gone unnoticed by the gossipers, the Preceptors, the sidelong and suspicious looks that clearly noticed the unusual closeness between the two leaders. The softness in La Mancha's eyes around the High Elder was stark enough; the proximity, the way the Ranger angled himself when he and Dan Feng spoke in confidence. Funny, the accusations that La Mancha was seducing Yinyue-jun were far from untrue.
"Ești superbă," Alonso murmured huskily to Dan Feng beneath him, voice a deep vibrato through his broad frame, waist cradled between the High Elder's shapely thighs as strong arms embraced the Vidyadhara, hands caressing along Dan Feng's sides, brushing past shimmery scales. He kissed along Dan Feng's pulse, nibbling the skin with prominent fangs as the beginning of hickeys began to bloom on his skin. Alonso grinned wolfishly when he felt the dragon's tail coil around his thigh, squeezing, almost in time with his own bassy purrs when ungloved talons raked across his scalp.
The Ranger shifted, sighing into a kiss the High Elder dragged him back into, no doubt that princely demand compelling him. He chuckled throatily, beginning to grind against the impatient Vidyadhara, gripping the underside of one of Dan Feng's thighs for better traction. "Nerăbdător, nu-i așa, dragul meu?" he purred, affectionately nipping the underside of the Vidyadhara's throat.
( from @vanagander teehee)
he often retreated to the solace of the dragon palace’s libraries because they were so vast and sparsely occupied. the odd vidyadhara scholar here and there, the equally stoic librarians, and then the high elder who often hid from watchful eyes amidst the many many scrolls. when he’d beckoned la mancha into his favourite alcoves, past hidden nooks, and coral-encrusted staircases, this had not been what he’d had in mind. still, dan feng would be lying if he said this wasn’t a favourable outcome.
jostled against a wooden cabinet, shelves and scrolls occasionally digging into his back, and still the high elder was rapt with his attention, the proud dragon drowning in the affection. though he could no longer deny the electricity between them, his inexperience with the hound’s sensual wiles became apparent the more dan feng tried to hide. steamy billows of cloudhymn exhaled with every panting breath, misting over alonso’s skin.
this was sinful. the imbibitor lunae did not want for the desires of the flesh, this had been beaten into his psyche since he was barely old enough to talk. and yet, even the warming embrace of the hunter was ecstasy, a connection spurned on by the addictive feeling of his heartbeat, rushing alongside dan feng’s, thrumming in his ears when his teeth grazed his pulse. he could not hide the way his body responded to the new sensations, hungry for something new and exciting after hundreds of years of isolation.
it’s embarrassing, humiliating, watching - no - letting the ranger strip the dragon king of his decorum and grace, wolven paws slipping between his robes to trace over scales with depraved lust. however clumsy his kisses, for every spine-tingling shiver, each attempt after was done so with a renewed, almost angry vigour. the frustration seeped into every bone of the vidyadhara’s body, from the fingers curling tight and possessive into la mancha’s hair, to the thighs in a vice grip at either side of the ranger’s waist.
the ranger’s mother tongue barely registered in dan feng’s synesthesia beacon, feeling more than hearing the words pressed into his flesh and against wanting fangs. oh he was impatient. for what, he couldn’t quite name, only that he wanted more. more sins of the flesh. more of alonso and the softness in his eyes, the longing want in every craving for dan feng and not the high elder. the dragon coiled his tail tighter, a taloned hand gripping into the cabinet beneath him and splintering wood just to gain the leverage to grind against his partner in turn.
“ more. ” a plea, a snarl.
oh la mancha, what a hungry beast you’ve awakened.
