2. Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Viktor ate two bites of breakfast and spent the rest of the morning throwing up, which was . . . not a good thing.

Obviously.

What are you DOING? the dragon asked, sounding baffled.

“Leave me alone,” Viktor said sourly, and went back to bed.

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The dragon left him alone for all of an hour before Viktor could feel their golden eyes on him from the kitchen door. He determinedly burrowed deeper into his bed. He still felt sick, and he had no intention of leaving it anytime soon. The dragon would sulk, probably, but the dragon sulked when he refused to eat raw meat or was doing chores when they wanted attention or just didn’t like whatever they’d brought back from their latest trip to . . . wherever, exactly, it was that they got the things that they got for him.

His cycle was late, which was probably why he felt sick, though it’d been years since he’d had a cycle bad enough to actually make him sick. Maybe he was finally old enough that it was getting ready to stop coming, he halfheartedly hoped. His last one had been short, after all, and that would be nice; one less useless annoyance in his life, plus more time to fix up the house and garden and stable and grounds.

Are you still mad? the dragon said from the doorway. Viktor glanced heavenwards for strength. Gods save him from his own taste in lovers, he thought.

“Yes,” he said. “Go away.”

Go AWAY? the dragon said, sounding offended.

“You heard me,” Viktor said. He’d never been the sort to seek comfort in other people, and the dragon wasn’t an exception just because they were a dragon and happened to have saved his life once. “I’m sick. I don’t want to be around anyone.”

Sick? the dragon said warily.

“Yes.” Viktor pulled a pillow over his head. The dragon had been bringing him a lot of bedding lately. The bed was beginning to resemble . . . well, a hoard. Viktor could use less of the bedding, of course, but it was comfortable. He’d never had more than one pillow before, and found it baffling that it’d never occurred to him to have more. Especially for nesting.

You don’t smell sick, the dragon said. Viktor made a disbelieving noise and lifted his head to stare at the other.

“Are you arguing with the way I puked up half my guts this morning?” he demanded incredulously.

. . . no?

“You are!”

It’s not MY fault you don’t smell sick.

“Get out!” Viktor threw a pillow at them. He was too nauseous for this. The dragon made an offended noise, but retreated.

Viktor scowled at the empty doorway, not actually feeling any better, then burrowed down in his bed again.

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Viktor felt better by the afternoon, and assumed something about breakfast had just disagreed with him. Until the next day, anyway, when he had an entirely different breakfast but also spent the morning throwing up.

Maybe he’d been a bit quick to assume he was recovered, then.

Victor? the dragon said, poking their head into the kitchen. Viktor seriously considered throwing a pillow at them again, but he didn’t want to have to get up and retrieve it after. He felt better, finally, but still didn’t want to leave his bed at all.

“Still sick,” he said. “Still don’t want to be around anyone.”

Do you need medicine? Humans need that, yes? the dragon said doubtfully, slinking into the room and leaning over him. Viktor glared up at them for a moment, then burrowed deeper into the pillows.

“No,” he said irritably, waving the other off. He just wanted to sleep this off. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

Mm, the dragon said, but they left him alone.

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Viktor woke up feeling better and tripped over the two dead elk outside the kitchen door, which was far too much meat and clearly meant the dragon was overcompensating. He sighed, and went to butchering them. He was annoyed, still, but it was hard to be at the same time. The dragon was clearly trying to make him feel better, so he couldn’t exactly be mad.

Well, he could. And he would, if they were too pushy about it.

Still.

“I can’t eat all this, you realize,” he called out the door after he’d taken what he could of the meat and filled both the oven and the stewpot to bursting. The dragon landed in front of the door, eyeing him warily.

I will eat the rest, obviously, they said, which they usually did do, so Viktor supposed that would be fine. He didn’t like the idea of wasting so much food. He was going to have to figure out how to smoke things, maybe, or make jerky.

“All yours,” he said, gesturing at the elks’ remains.

Delicious, the dragon said, licking their chops. Viktor was immediately reminded of just how . . . useful that tongue could be.

“Ideally, yes,” he said, ignoring his stupid libido, which really needed to develop a better sense of timing. The dragon huffed steam, then went to tearing into the elk. They ate much more quickly than Viktor was used to seeing, still.

You smell like lust, they said, licking their chops again, and Viktor couldn’t really argue. There was only one reason he could imagine the dragon having pointed that out, though.

“I’m sick, and you want to mount me,” he said anyway, exasperated.

You don’t smell sick, the dragon said, eyes glittering. You smell delicious, my Victor.

Viktor was not that easy, dammit.

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“Fuck,” Viktor gasped as the dragon’s long, clever tongue dragged up over his hole and curled around his cock. The dragon purred and it rumbled straight through him, and he felt the rush of slick drip out of him. He grabbed the dragon’s horns, not sure if he was trying to push them away or pull them closer or just steady himself. The dragon purred louder, then licked him again, and again, and again, and—

Viktor came, of course, and came hard, knocking his head back against the mattress and seeing stars behind his eyes. The dragon lumbered up over his shuddering body as he was trying to recover, and Viktor bit his lip and looked down at their heavy, neglected cock. He reached down and wrapped a hand around it the best he could, and the dragon hissed, their wings flaring.

Viktor stroked. The dragon knocked something off the counter with a wing, but he wasn’t really worried about it. Probably the dragon had intended to fuck him—that was what they usually did, the handful of times they’d done this—but he’d still never really explored their cock in much detail, so . . .

“Stay there,” he said roughly, and then he stroked harder and faster, feeling out all the places that set the dragon off the most. The job took both hands, but it worked, and they came all over his chest and stomach in big, messy, filthy spurts. “Oh!”

OH, the dragon groaned, wings trembling, and then they licked him clean with wide, sweeping drags of their tongue. Viktor reacted naturally, and by “naturally” he meant “by getting very, very turned on again”. The dragon nuzzled his stomach, then dragged their tongue up over his chest. His nipples peaked eagerly at the attention, somehow feeling even more sensitive than usual, and the dragon flicked the tip of their tongue over them. Viktor moaned.

He probably wasn’t very subtle about how good it felt, because the dragon kept licking around and across them. Viktor jerked under the treatment, and the dragon pinned him in place by wrapping gentle but inexorable talons around his arm and then just took their time licking his chest and lapping at his nipples and making him so fucking sensitive that he was left gasping at every little touch.

“Hurry up,” he managed, thighs shaking.

So impatient, my treasure, the dragon replied smugly, and licked his chest again. Viktor moaned, and they did it again, and he moaned louder, and then they just—kept—doing it—

“Fuck!” he choked, and the dragon flicked their tongue in a way that had his eyes rolling back in his head. “I said hurry up, didn’t I?!”

And I said you were impatient, didn’t I, the dragon crooned, and Viktor didn’t think he could come like this, but . . .

“Bastard,” he panted, free hand going to his cock to rub it, and the dragon dragged their tongue again and Viktor came with a hoarse cry, arching up into the other. “Gods!”

The dragon let go of his arm as he was shaking and aching and trembling and flipped him over without another moment’s preamble, and Viktor hit the mattress on his stomach with a gasp and the dragon immediately thrust their tongue inside his dripping hole. Viktor yelled. The dragon fucked him, curled their tongue inside him so it felt like a knot, and Viktor scrabbled desperately at the sheets and shoved back into them. He got a hand on his cock again, but it barely mattered; the dragon’s tongue was just so big and thick and filling him up so perfectly—

He came again.

The dragon didn’t stop fucking him.

Viktor could’ve told them to, but no, that was the last thing he was going to do. He rubbed and stroked his cock and pushed his hips back into the dragon’s tongue and buried a yowl in the nearest pillow, and the dragon fucked him until he came again. Viktor reflexively tried to lock their curled tongue, and moaned in disappointment as they reclaimed it.

The dragon shifted up over his body again, and this time he lifted his hips and tilted them to present his well-fucked hole, and the dragon’s cock dragged heavily against it. Viktor bit down on the pillow, groping backwards to guide the other’s cock into himself, and the moment he did the dragon pushed forward and split him open wide. He would’ve yowled again, but that would’ve required being able to breathe. He was pretty sure he could breathe, just right now he really, really could not remember how to.

The dragon fucked him with short, rough thrusts, the tapered end of their cock pressing deep inside him, and Viktor clawed at the pillows and sheets and tried to move back into it, but mostly just did the best he could not to collapse outright under the assault. He got back enough breath to make noise, and the breathy little yips that kept escaping his mouth were like nothing he’d ever heard himself make before.

It felt so good. It felt so good. Viktor had no idea how to even fucking process how good it felt, it was just—so much, so fast, so intense—

He keened, hooking his hands around the dragon’s forelegs in an attempt to better brace himself, and the dragon fucked him deeper, and he came without even touching his cock again.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” he gasped out, and the dragon didn’t. Viktor dug his nails in against the other’s scales and let out the kind of needy, pleading noises he’d usually only let himself make in heat, and the dragon nuzzled his throat and fucked him just shy of too hard, too deep, too fast. “Oh, oh gods!”

My treasure, the dragon hummed lowly, and Viktor clung tighter to them. The dragon was overwhelming, every time, and Viktor couldn’t pretend he didn’t like them that way. He’d never had a lover like them before, intense enough to block out everything else in the world and so careful but so unstoppable at the same time. The dragon could crack stone but had barely even bruised him even after all these times, never so much as scratched his skin, and he’d found himself thinking about that more than once.

He was thinking about it right now, as the dragon fucked him hard enough that he knew he’d be feeling it tomorrow and breathed steam into the air.

“Dragon,” Viktor gasped out, and the dragon licked his throat.

Come for me, my Victor they said, and of course he did.

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They spent the rest of the day in bed, ‘til Viktor was limp and exhausted and could barely even move. Keeping up with a dragon half his age took everything he had, and the dragon was still never anywhere near as tired as he was after. Viktor wanted to do more for them, honestly, but the dragon seemed content.

“Gods, you’re impossible,” he groaned weakly, turning his face into the mattress. The dragon curled around him and nuzzled his stomach.

Certainly not, they said. Just, perhaps, slightly unlikely. Viktor snorted, laying a heavy hand on the other’s head. The dragon nuzzled him again, then licked speculatively at his chest.

“Too much,” Viktor grumbled, pushing them back. The dragon let him, then curled up tighter. Viktor shifted, and the dragon put their tail under his head like a pillow, though it was nowhere near that comfortable. Viktor was too exhausted to move, even with the slight discomfort.

My treasures, the dragon rumbled. Viktor half-opened his eyes to look at them.

“Yes, dear,” he said dryly, patting the dragon’s flank. Then he frowned. Wait. “‘Treasures’?”

Yes, the dragon repeated like they thought he’d just misheard them, which . . . no, he had definitely not.

“Why treasures plural?” Viktor asked, frowning at them. The dragon tilted their head, looking puzzled.

Because there are two of you, they said. Viktor had a long moment of blankness, and then—

“Am I fucking pregnant?!” he demanded. The dragon blinked at him.

Yes, they said. Of course.

“What do you mean of course?!”

You asked me to breed you, the dragon said.

“Oh gods,” Viktor said in horror, sitting up. “You can do that?!”

Of course! the dragon said, preening smugly. I am a dragon, am I not?

“Oh gods,” Viktor repeated, just staring at them disbelievingly. He must be dreaming. The dragon must be joking. He couldn’t possibly be—

Gods.

Gods.

He grabbed his stomach. Was it bigger? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t pay that much attention to his stomach. He felt like throwing up.

. . . like he had been for the past two mornings.

Fuck.

“You bred me!” he said. The dragon looked puzzled again.

Yes, they said. Like you asked.

“I was in heat!” Viktor said, turning red. “People say things like that in heat! I didn’t think you could actually do it! Oh gods, is it going to be an egg?!”

It’s going to be a dragon, the dragon replied patiently. Obviously.

“That’s not an answer!”