Work Text:
He panted heavily and clutched his stomach, the pink creature inching closer.
“C’mon, I ain’t feeling it,” Bowser muttered, his eyes lowering in sickness, “stop.”
The creature didn’t stop, nor slow his pace.
“Shut up, Koopa King.” Midbus stopped a foot in front of the Koopa and looked him over before stretching his arm out and wrapping his hand up and under the spiked collar in one quick motion. “You’re weak. I’m strong.”
Bowser coughed out a swear and squirmed under his grip, his hand only tightening by the second. That damned mushroom, he shouldn’t have been so stupid.
“Let’s see how kingly you are when you are lying in your own blood.”
Midbus slid Bowser into the cliff-side, causing his scaly body to jolt in pain and give a quiet grunt. He was convinced he was going to give up his lunch. If he had been at the best of his ability, he'd be having the pig soaring! But sadly that was not the case, not in the slightest. The king’s hands wrapped up around Midbus’ one, pulling and twisting at his wristcuff weakly.
“You’re… A coward,” he choked out. “It’s not a fair fight. You’re a coward.”
“This is not a fight.” Midbus returned calmly.
“Then wh-what is it?”
A soft, but somehow rough mound of flesh pressed into Bowser’s torso, and he soon made the connection that it was in fact Midbus’ stomach in his slowed state of mind. He was so close, his pant-like exhales through his nose hit Bowser’s muzzle like he himself was out of breath.
The pink clawlike hand pressed harder on the turtle’s throat, only making him gag and writhe more. His face and eyes were tinting pink and he was only pitifully emitting these tiny sounds, his fighting back becoming effortless and eventually slowing to a stop. If the troops saw him like this…
“Who is the coward? Who is weak?” Midbus pressed his snout against Bowser’s. He was gasping in the other’s air… It was disgusting. It felt like something wet had prodded his inner thigh but he ignored it, gritting his teeth for a short moment at the other’s questions. It was hard to tell if the feeling’s legitimacy was to point, his skin was fading into a fuzzy, tingly feeling caused by the lack of oxygen.
“Ah-- You--” He just barely choked out, hardly a whisper. He wouldn’t give up his dignity, not yet.
“Me?” Midbus forced his claws into the meat of Bowser’s neck.
“Yea--”
“Wrong answer.”
Pink lids covered his eyes then uncovered them, Midbus bearing his teeth slyly. Bowser’s vision was becoming spotted, some black blotches here and there. He was lightheaded and still half-heartedly trying to get air. Only small slivers were rewarded for his best efforts in this condition.
The magenta hog’s skin was becoming sweaty, much like his own, and it only increased the friction between their two different skin types. It stuck together and pulled and dragged a little painfully as the Koopa moved to attempt to free himself.
After a few pushes, Koopa gave up, dangling by his neck an inch above the ground, his feet just barely swaying. He was just too… weak for this. He hated the word. It made him sicker than he already was.
Midbus’ words on how this wasn’t a fight still ran through his oxygen-starved head. He must’ve noticed his ceasing of motion, because he just barely pulled back from his esophagus to give him more air. Bowser took in as much as he could for that short moment.
“You aren’t dozing off.” Midbus stated gruffly.
“N--” His hand forced forward once more. Another cough and squirm was given in reaction. Why wasn’t he just ending it? Why was he drawing it out?
That thing happened again, he felt the wet object against his thigh and then… Woah woah woah. Bowser tried to move away, grunting loudly and opening his eyes wide from the newfound breath and the object rubbing against his crotch. Midbus’ hand only tightened to hold him up with him moving again.
The thing was hot, and slimy, and it was rubbing off on the hole where his cock sheathed itself. Bowser finally made the connection and tried kicking his feet as he felt his own dick start to slither out in arousal. No, no no no.
“Don’t fight it, you like it,” Midbus muttered, pressing his sweaty body against Bowser’s, “I can tell, I feel you.”
