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"Absolutely not." Scaramouche's voice was an annoyed growl as he continued on his way past the subject of his irritation.
Dottore feigned a pout, following the shorter man with determination. He always found himself entranced by the way the ornaments on his hat moved, rattling softly with the slight sway of his hips - maybe that was the part he was most focused on.
"Oh, don't be that way, Mooshy - when have any of my experiments caused you harm?" Scaramouche flinched at the nickname, gritting his teeth as he turned to look at his fellow harbinger.
"More times than I can count - and I've told you a thousand times more not to call me that." His spine went rigid as Dottore invaded his space, far too close to him for comfort.
"You could tell me your real name, and I could call you that, if you'd like. 'Balladeer' and 'Scaramouche' are such a mouthful." Scaramouche took the opportunity to punch Dottore in his stomach, huffing as he crumbled to his knees on the floor.
"You'll mind your business - 'Scaramouche' is fine. We aren't friends, Dottore." The glare he was met with when he looked up shot through Dottore's spine. Briefly, he thought he was afraid.
Instead, he found himself strangely aroused.
Not now! There were more important things!
"You really won't help me out? You just need to fight a few Ruin Guards - that should be nothing for you, right?" Scaramouche sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes, turning away from him as his arms crossed over his chest.
"It would be nothing for me - but I'm not interested. Knowing you, there's something weird about it that you won't tell me, and I want no part in it." Oh, ever-so-observant. Of course there was, but - as Scaramouche pointed out - he wasn't about to tell him what. What fun would there be in spoiling the surprise?
"I promise, it isn't something that will cause any changes to your body. Just... a little extra tinkering for flavor." Scaramouche rolled his eyes once more.
"You won't leave me alone until I agree, will you?" He groaned in agitation when he got a nod in response. "I fucking hate you. Let's just go."
Scaramouche stumbled out of the domain, clothes torn and singed while he fought to catch his breath. He ground his teeth and shot a death glare to Dottore who looked sheepish as he avoided the other man's eyes.
"You didn't say a gods-damned thing about a fucking Pyro Regisvine!" He reached over and grabbed Dottore by the front of his shirt, pulling him down to eye level. "You could have helped instead of standing there like an idiot, you lanky bastard!"
"Now, now! You killed it, didn't you? Let's calm down a bit." He'd never admit he was afraid of Scaramouche, but he knew the man could fry him in seconds if he wanted to. There was no way he would survive if he didn't deescalate the situation. "I mean... it was still technically Ruin Guards-"
"That was an unnatural abomination, is what it was!" His voice had dropped to a low growl that would have made Dottore weak in the knees if he wasn't afraid of dying, right now. He let out a sigh of relief when he was pushed away, straightening his clothes.
"Whatever - did you get your data or what? That better not have been for nothing." He brushed off his tattered sleeves, making a face at the strange powder all over him. He'd never seen it, before - and it wasn't like that was his first time fighting a Pyro Regisvine. Maybe it was ashes? Weird color for ashes, though. It was making his nose burn, too.
"I believe so. You don't feel strange, do you?" He almost sounded disappointed, attracting the attention of his coworker.
"What is that supposed to mean? Didn't you say it wouldn't do anything to me?"
Shit, he did say that, didn't he?
"H-Hey, now, Scaramouche -"
"I'll fucking kill you, you shitty beanpole son of a bitch-!" He moved to grab Dottore once again, but froze in place. His face burned up a bright red and his eyes went wide, unable to focus on his target. He pulled his hand back and turned away from him, putting a hand to his forehead to try and clear his mind.
Why did he feel like this, all of a sudden?
"Oh? Change your mind?" He was saved. By what, though, he wasn't sure.
"Dottore... what the hell is this? What did you do?" Dottore's head tilted in interest as he approached Scaramouche, placing a hand on his shoulder as he turned him so he could see him better.
"What is all this?" He retracted his hand to look at the reddish color brushed over it from touching Scaramouche. It was all over him - did it come from the Pyro Regisvine? He dusted off his hands, cringing at the smell in his nose. It made him sneeze and cough - pollen, he decided - Regisvine pollen??
Oh.
A severe oversight on his part.
"Uhm, well - this isn't anything I intended, at all. We should get back - you aren't going to want to be out in the open fairly soon."
Neither will I, really.
Scaramouche was peeling off layers as soon as they were in the building. He sighed in relief at the cool air against his skin, dropping his hat to the floor to run his fingers through his hair. He frowned when he found that it was already damp with sweat. Dottore still hadn't told him what was going on - he was hot and uncomfortable and... Gods, why was he hard?
"Scaramouche - Archons, put your clothes back on!" Dottore stuttered, grabbing Scaramouche's wrists to stop him from taking his pants off in the main hall.
What he hadn't expected was the loud, indecent noise that came from Scaramouche's throat when he touched his hands. Scaramouche burned a brighter red, a look of terror and utter shame in his eyes.
"I..I- sh-shut up, let me go..." Despite his words, he didn't pull away from Dottore - instead, he leaned closer to him and grabbed his jacket to pull their chests flush against each other. Dottore's previously light blush washed over his entire body, and he tried to push him away while his head was still relatively clear.
"Hey, listen to your own words - get off of me!" Pushing him back by his shoulders only seemed to make things worse, another explicit noise slipping past Scaramouche's lips. A low groan came from Dottore's own, the sound going straight to his dick. "Stop doing that, there are other people here, you know."
"I'm not doing it on purpose, you fucking shitlord - this is your fault.. Wh-What did you do to that damn flower?"
"I didn't do anything - it's the pollen, it's... uh.. an aphrodisiac for humans-"
"And you let me fight the damn thing?! I swear I'll fucking kill you... You knew this shit would happen, sadistic bastard-" Dottore rolled his eyes and started dragging Scaramouche away, gritting his teeth when he made another noise.
"I didn't know, actually! Just shut up, already. I'll take you to your room so you can deal with it - I have other things to handle, right now." Like his own erection straining against his underwear.
When they got to Scaramouche's room, Dottore fully planned to throw him in the room and leave. He opened the door and went to push him, but found himself being dragged in. The door closed and Scaramouche pushed him against it, his face a mixture of annoyed and desperate.
"You... you had better do something about this.. This is your fault, Dottore."
"...What?" Was he completely delusional, right now? Did he know what that meant? "Scaramouche, you don't know what y-"
"I know exactly what I'm saying." His voice was back to that low growl from before, rumbling in his chest against Dottore's. He reached up and peeled Dottore's mask from his face, throwing it to the floor. Before he could protest, he was pulled down by his collar and their lips crashed together. The heat and desire he'd been trying to ignore washed over him all at once, and he let himself melt into it.
"You're wearing too much." Scaramouche mumbled against Dottore's lips, fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. Dottore laughed at his words, hands finding their way to Scaramouche's hips to drop his shorts to the floor.
"I'm wearing a normal amount - you're the one who started stripping." He shrugged off his jacket, discarding it to the floor before tangling his fingers in indigo hair. He pulled Scaramouche's head back, licking his lips to demand access. He was amused by how easily Scaramouche opened his mouth for him, but couldn't say he was surprised when he fought for dominance.
Well, he couldn't say he minded, either way.
Scaramouche grabbed the waist of Dottore's pants and pulled him as he walked back toward the bed, popping the button open and shoving him down onto the mattress. Dottore gasped, not having caught his breath from the kiss before his back hit the surface. He started to sit up, but only made it a far as propping himself on his elbows before Scaramouche was kneeling over him, now completely undressed. Dottore hooked his hands behind Scaramouche's knees, pulling him forward until his head was between his legs.
"H-hey, what are y- ohhh.." Scaramouche's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as he felt his dick slide across Dottore's tongue and toward the back of his throat. He grabbed at Dottore's shoulders, a low groan slipping through his teeth. "Fuck..."
Dottore hummed over the length, sliding his hands up to knead Scaramouche's thighs. They were nice and muscular, but still soft enough that Dottore wished he would suffocate him in them. He pulled off, circling the tip with his tongue before taking it all back down in one motion and swallowing around it. Another throaty moan left Scaramouche's lips, his hands tangling in Dottore's hair to pull himself impossibly deeper into the wet heat of his mouth.
"Dottore- shit, you're good at that.." He rolled his hips against Dottore's face, staring down at him with lust-glazed eyes framed in the red flush of his cheeks. He felt the vibration of the hum Dottore gave in response and arched his back. Scaramouche whimpered, wanting more and more - unaware he was voicing his desire under his breath, lost in the pleasure. Dottore's laugh rumbled against all the right nerves, a shocked gasp preceding the whine of disappointment when his mouth left his dick with a quiet, wet pop.
"What the fuck, why did you stop?" He growled, electricity crackling in his veins. He wasn't close enough to cum, yet, but gods, he was getting there.
"I couldn't let you have all the fun, could I?" Scaramouche wanted to smack that smug grin off his face, but it was gone before he could - lost to the fingers Dottore had shoved between his own lips. Scaramouche turned impossibly redder and sat himself on Dottore's stomach, letting his legs rest.
"I-I have lube, you idiot... Stop that."
"Oh? Who is that for?" When he didn't get a response, he looked up to see Scaramouche avoiding his gaze as he reached for the bedside table, taking a bottle of red liquid out of the drawer and throwing it at Dottore's head. He pulled Dottore's pants down enough to free his cock and leaned over him, grinding his own against it in an attempt to find relief. It was longer and thicker than his own, and he had to stop himself from drooling at the idea of it rearranging his guts.
"It's for you, fuckface - get to it, I'm not fingering myself for you." He hissed, even though he absolutely would if he had to. Anything to get things moving - if he didn't cum soon, he was going to kill Dottore. This was all his fault, anyway!
"A-Ah, just yourself, then?" Dottore teased, pouring the liquid over his fingers. He was surprised to find that it wasn't cold at all - it was already warm. He gave Scaramouche a questioning look, and got an annoyed one in response.
"It's pyro slime condensate - stays warm." Scaramouche crawled forward, leaning down so his face was in Dottore's neck and his ass was in the air. He pulled at light blue locks and bit at his throat. "Hurry up, already."
"So impatient!" Dottore laughed, trailing his slicked fingers down Scaramouche's spine. He relished in the shudder that wracked his body and pushed a finger into Scaramouche's waiting hole.
"Sh-shut up, we wouldn't even be in this mess if it weren't for y-OU-!" Scaramouche yelped when a second finger was added after no time at all, squirming against Dottore's hand as he started to spread him open. He laid his chest flush against Dottore's, fingers scrambling to grip the sheets.
"Mm, maybe - I'd be lying if I said I was angry about it, though."
"Wh- ugh! Mn.." Scaramouche had tried to question him, but his train of thought completely derailed with the intrusion of a third finger. He lost all ability to focus on anything other than Dottore opening him up and plunging deeper with each thrust of his hand. His body rocked back against him, the tips of Dottore's fingers just barely missing his prostate.
"You open up so nicely." Dottore's voice was a whisper against Scaramouche's ear, sending another shiver through his body. His breath hitched with the twist of Dottore's fingers, and he whined when they left him empty. "Lie on your back."
"Bold of you to think you're in charge, here." Scaramouche huffed, pushing himself to his hands and knees. He took the bottle previously discarded and poured the condensate on Dottore's length, smearing it over every inch and finding amusement in the soft gasps that tore from his lips. Finally, he'd all but lost his patience and lined Dottore up with his entrance, sliding onto it with a low groan.
"Fuck, you're still so tight..." Dottore gripped Scaramouche's thighs with a bruising force as he lowered himself down, rolling his own hips up to meet him faster.
"Maybe you're just too big - did the damn plant do that?" Scaramouche gave him a skeptical look when he shook his head.
"Sorry to disappoint, but that's just me." There was a laugh in his words as he spoke through grunts, pushing deeper inside. They moaned in unison once he bottomed out, satisfaction in their voices. Scaramouche squirmed, rocking his hips to try and adjust to the thickness impaling him. "Can you handle it, Scaramouche?"
Scaramouche gave him an annoyed expression, but gasped when he felt Dottore's cock brush against the bundle of nerves he'd been looking for. He shamelessly ground back against him, a string of indecent sounds spilling from his throat. He put his hands on Dottore's chest to keep himself upright, arms trembling as he pushed himself closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck... Dottore, fuck fuck fuck..!" His eyes squeezed shut, tremors rippling through his body as his nerves sparked like lightning. Scaramouche lifted himself about halfway off Dottore's dick, only to slam himself back down and push it impossibly further into his body. He swore it was in his stomach, but he didn't care - it felt so, so good. He started an uneven rhythm, bouncing himself on the length. Dottore met him each time he came back down, thrusting into all the right places and forcing moans through gritted teeth.
"So pretty.." Dottore licked his lips, sliding a hand to stroke Scaramouche's neglected cock. He watched him fuck himself on his own, jaw falling open with a strained groan when he was touched. Dottore admired the deep flush of Scaramouche's skin, damp with sweat as it slid against his. "You look incredible, riding my dick like this - you're so good, Scaramouche, so, so good.."
"Stop t-talking, damn it!" Dottore's words were hitting all the right things in his brain, and he wasn't sure he could handle it. It was so much, too much, he was so full and everything felt so good. "I'm close, Dottore - I'm really fucking close-!"
"Already? So soon..." Dottore stroked him faster, thumbing at the leaking slit. He was heavy and throbbing in his hand, still somewhat sticky with his spit. Scaramouche's moans faded into short, desperate panting - the rhythm of his hips was lost, his movements erratic as he chased his release. "Cum for me, Scaramouche."
Almost on command, Scaramouche stilled, and his body shook as he came over Dottore's hand. A long whine accompanied it, his head thrown back. His nails dug deep, red lines into Dottore's chest, and he felt the strength in his legs melting away as he started to come down from his high. "D..Dottore, fuck.."
"If you insist." If he hadn't been completely out of it, he might have heard the shit-eating grin in Dottore's tone - but he didn't register anything until he was flipped onto his back, legs slung over Dottore's shoulders. Scaramouche let out a yelp as he started his own rhythm in his body, pushing him into the mattress with each thrust.
"Ha- Archons, please, it's too much-" His body betrayed his rational thought, however, responding to Dottore's movements with overwhelming positivity. His hands grabbed at the sheets above his head, trying to ground himself and failing miserably. Scaramouche was high on the pleasure from overstimulation - he both wanted more and couldn't take it.
"Just a bit longer," Dottore licked over his fingers, still covered in Scaramouche's release. The sight had Scaramouche groaning, the pressure building in his gut once more. Everything in his body felt tight, and his head was spinning. "remember to breathe, Scaramouche."
"Easier said than done.." Scaramouche took in a deep breath, only to have it knocked right back out of him in a long, desperate whine when Dottore continued to rock into him. "Fuck, fuck..!"
"Such a filthy mouth." Dottore grabbed Scaramouche by the jaw, making him look him in the eyes. Blue, glassy pools stared back at him, unfocused and fluttering. Soft, rapid moans passed through Scaramouche's parted lips. Dottore couldn't resist capturing them with his own, his body trembling as he neared his orgasm.
"Dottore, please... please please please.." The word was muttered against Dottore's lips like a prayer, Scaramouche's hands coming up to tangle in his hair. He pulled and tore a deep groan from Dottore's throat.
"You feel so good, so good for me." Dottore kissed him once more before he pressed his lips to Scaramouche's ear, whispering a mix of praises and his name in a low rumble.
"Dottore, I'm- shit, I'm gonna cum again-!"
"With me, then. Cum for me, love."
Scaramouche didn't have time to respond, a violent shiver wracking his body as he came over for the second time, releasing all over his stomach. Dottore just seconds behind, the tightness around his cock pulling his orgasm from him. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, trying to catch their breath while they came down from their high. Dottore moved first, pulling out of Scaramouche with a soft groan and starting to move back, only for him to grab his wrist.
"What... what did you call me..?" They stared at each other for quite some time, Dottore trying to recall what he might have said in the heat of the moment. What was it? What did he s-
Oh.
Oh no.
"Uh- it, uh, that was just because of the pollen, don't think about it too much."
"..Mm." Scaramouche pushed himself to sit up, his arms wobbling like jelly under his weight. "If you tell a single soul about this, consider yourself fried."
"You say that as if I found this any more preferable than you." Dottore rolled his eyes, crossing his legs over the edge of the bed and turning his back toward Scaramouche. "We'd never hear the end of it, were any of the others to hear about it."
"At least you're smart enough to recognize that." Scaramouche huffed through his nose, seeming a bit more agitated than before.
"...Did you want me to mean it?" Dottore spoke up after an uncomfortable silence, neither of them having moved for a while. The tone in Scaramouche's voice had bothered him, and he wasn't sure what it meant, but it wasn't something he wanted to ignore.
"Wh- no, I- well- I don't... think so?" The words faded to a mumble at the end, but Dottore could still hear him, close as he was. "It caught me off guard, more than anything."
"Understandable - my apologies, then." Dottore laughed, but Scaramouche caught a second tone under his amusement. Soft, but somehow pained. He watched Dottore's eyes, curiosity getting the better of him, and caught a glimmer of what he thought was disappointment as he stared at nothing.
"...Archons, you meant it." Dottore jumped, his head immediately whipping to face the other harbinger with an expression that was a mix of offended and embarrassed.
"What makes you think that?? I- Honestly, who would feel that sort of way about a narcissistic brat like you? Even then, I don't have time for something as useless as-"
"Who are you to call me narcissistic?" Scaramouche was more amused than insulted, entertained by Dottore's hissy fit. He'd never seen him get defensive over anything, so used to his overconfident demeanor and sadistic personality. What a change it was to see him acting so cu-
Oh no.
"Scaramouche?" When he blinked and came back to reality, Dottore was giving him a questioning look. He immediately tore his gaze away and stared at the sheets.
"J-Just get out of here, already!" He snapped, getting up and gathering his clothes off of the floor to throw them into a basket. "I have to take a bath, I'm... gross and sticky, now."
"Alright, alright." Dottore shook his head with a short laugh, standing to his feet and stretching his arms.
"Er, unless.." Scaramouche started, grabbing the attention of the other man. His face was red, and his eyes couldn't focus - finally, he turned so his back was to Dottore and he couldn't see his expression.
"..unless you want to join me, that is."
It was tense and silent for a few minutes. Scaramouche opened his mouth to speak, but he was stopped by arms wrapping around his waist and lips pressing to his temple.
"That sounds lovely."