Chapter Text
Somehow, the chief feeling that greets Nom upon waking is confusion.
This is odd for a couple reasons.
The first is that the thing that wakes him up is something touching him. This is an immediate pull from the depths of sleep, as no matter how light a touch is, Nom has become trained to waking at it immediately. Usually, literally jumping up and out of bed, onto his feet, and grabbing his sword. It most often creates awkward and embarrassing situations when someone is just trying to shake him awake for something, but it's also saved his life more than once.
This touch is far more than just a light brush, landing on him quite heavily and spread over much of his body. But it doesn't quite force him to cold water awareness. Somehow.
This is possibly due to the second oddity. That being, the grab of arousal in his middle. Quick and slightly distant, like it happens when in sleep.
The mixture of the two or some sort of anomaly, Nom's eyes flutter in confusion as his mouth parts breathily. He's still glued to the bed, on his back, and there's the sound of someone being near to him. He can feel their body heat, their breath on his face, a hand pressed in the center of his chest. Right as Nom forcibly shoves his brain out of the muddled state, heart skipping up in concern, the full weight of a body on top of him rolls forwards.
Right on his crotch.
Nom's eyes snap open at that, hands shooting up too. He might not know exactly what is happening, but this is so off that bringing a stop to it is all he can think to do.
His hand finds a thin forearm easily, no resistance showing itself at all. Not that they seem to stop their straddle on him at being caught. Instead, a strange chirruping noise leaves them. It hikes up Nom's wings under himself, pulling on them uncomfortably. But when their hips grind against his again, Nom grabs them with his other hand and pushes them completely off of his body.
At the same time, he sits up enough for leverage, squinting harshly through the darkness. The window beside his bed lets in just enough light to see glimmering gold of curls and eyelashes. A small wrinkled nose, freckled cheeks and pointed ears, and emerald colored eyes.
"… Scott?" Nom asks, voice rough with sleep.
The half-elf meets his gaze, blinking thickly and practically limp in Nom's hold. His normally wide eyes are lidded, but his pupils seems blown far too wide, even for the dim light. Just as concern for head injuries overwhelms the rest of Nom's mixed emotions, Scott shifts his legs where they're still tangled with Nom's.
Then he tilts his head to the side, eyes fluttering, as he moans softly.
"Dude, wha—!" Nom exclaims.
He pushes Scott away even more, completely off of him as he scrambles up. Only barely, Scott doesn't fall off of his bed in the process. Though Nom isn't trying to be particularly rough, more shocked and confused, it's still enough to force the mage away without much trying.
Scott whimpers, sounding more like a kicked cat than a person.
A person who has been shoved away because they have crawled into his bed while he was sleeping and started grinding on him—What the actual fuck?!
In far too many tries, Nom fumbles the lantern on beside his bed. While he pushes himself further away from the lump beside him, he doesn't quite make the move for any further attack. Because, well. Well…
Finally, the flame flickers to life and a yellow glow fills the room. At least enough to see Scott. Which Nom instantly does, hands drawn back against his own chest, heart thudding, and head reeling with confusion and other feelings which will never be dissected, and certainly not right now. While normally Nom would react to something like this with anger first, since it's Scott of all people he can't feel much more than that ever present and drowning confusion.
Scott looks terrible.
He's splayed on his side, as though he's lost all the bones in his body and has simply been cast where Nom shoved him. A small part of Nom even worries that he has somehow hurt the other man, despite it all. Luckily, he's still dressed in most of his day clothes, though they're mused up and missing pieces like his cape and shoes.
But the real concern comes with Scott's face.
It's stark white, except for the rounds of his cheeks, which are verging on a deep pink. They're damp, which Nom would think is sweat like the pricks on his forehead, but it's trailing downwards too obviously. Tears, then. Makes sense, considering how his expression is twisted up so painfully and upset that he looks like he should be sobbing or crying out. Though he's not, only letting out breathy groans as he curls inwards slowly, making his frame appear even smaller on the thin edge of the mattress.
Fever. Sickness, and a bad one.
That doesn't quite explain away everything that Nom had woken up to, but it's a good start at it. Fever can confuse people, especially when it's as bad as Nom fears Scott's is. It can make people strip in the snow, or see things that aren't there, or, or apparently climb into bed with someone while moaning. Nom's sure his own face is pretty damn pink, but he ignores that.
Lips thinned out, mostly concerned but a little awkward, Nom reaches his hand out and sets the back of his hand on Scott's forehead.
Then he yanks it away, blinking in shock.
"Woah, shit, okay. You are literally burning up. Which I guess explains whatever this was, so we need to get you to someone who can help you, like, yesterday—" Nom rambles.
As he does, sitting up further so that he can climb over the elf to pull him out of the bed, Scott's head follows after his touch. Drawn like a sunflower towards the light. Or probably something less damn sappy and poetic, except for how Scott lets out another sweet chirping noise that pinches at the inside of Nom's chest strangely. He stalls, touching Scott's forehead again tentatively.
Scott nuzzles into it, just as much a living being searching out a source of life.
"How do you feel, Scott? Cold?" Nom asks, petting the man's head.
A stupid question given the obvious fever and how Scott isn't a dragon hybrid who has to worry about dropping body temperatures instead of fevers usually. Nom's tail is still thwipping behind him, not caring about the logic of different species.
Humming, Scott just pushes into his hand further. When Nom's fingers grace nearer to his ears, his hums stray far closer to moan again, much to the burning of Nom's skin and the reminder of what exactly woke him up.
"Mm, Nom," Scott mumbles. Weakly, his fingers slip up and wrap around Nom's wrist. Squeezing warmly.
"Yup, it's me. Did you stumble around sick trying to find me?" Nom asks, not able to shove up amusement among his concern.
Scott hums again, seemingly an answer, but maybe just absent. It's really lucky that Scott didn't fall into the river or get lost or hurt. Nom's jaw tenses at the thought.
"Well, you found me, so good job, huh?" Nom says. Scott chirps, some sort of elf noise apparently. It's pretty damn cute, but he ignores that as Scott pulls on his wrist imploringly. "We had really better get you to a healer. They can make you feel better."
Without answering, Scott's face twists up in displeasure. Still, Nom takes his chance and pulls his hand free, before starting to scooch towards the edge of the bed again. Who exactly should he take Scott to at this time of night—?
His train of thought is broken by Scott crying out. It's such a sad noise, as though someone is pulling his heart out of his chest painfully. Nom's wings perk up as he quickly turns back to Scott, holding a hand out over him.
"What? What is it?" Nom asks anxiously.
Scott only tries to push himself up, before collapsing before he gets even a few inches. Then he just reaches out for Nom with a waver, still calling out weakly.
"I know you don't feel well, but that's why we need to take you to a doctor," Nom tries to explain logically.
It of course doesn't work, since Scott is apparently delirious from illness to be acting like this. He just shakes his head, hand falling limply. It lands close to Nom's leg so Scott's twists his fingers up in the pants, tugging insistently with his little noises.
"I–I can leave to go get someone instead—" Nom tries.
"N-no," Scott practically whines. "Don't go!"
"I'm not going, I'll just leave for a minute to get help—" Nom tries again. As successful as arguing with a fever patient.
Tearfully whining, Scott shakes his head some more. It makes Nom stutter in his movements to get up again, worry grabbing at him. And Scott's pale fingers too.
"I'll be right back," Nom says, gentle as he can.
Not appreciated.
With a surge of energy that Nom wouldn't think impossible in his state, Scott pushes himself up onto his palms as he tries to crawl close to Nom once more. Only to crumple, seemingly half on purpose, down onto Nom's lap. Rubbing his face across his stomach and thighs and far too close to other things, only stopping with his head cast back to look up at Nom.
Hazy eyed, flushed all over, panting softly, reaching up searchingly, rubbing his thighs together—
"I need you," Scott breathes.
It dawns on Nom, paired with a terrified expression and a glowing red face.
Scott is in heat.
Frankly, Nom had never considered whether elves have heats. Let alone half-elves! Let along half-elves who are in his town, and in his social circle, and apparently close enough to stumble into his bedroom, moaning and horny and wanting him!
"Oh my fucking God," Nom says, voice far too high.
Momentarily appeased by how Nom has stopped moving altogether, Scott goes back to nuzzling at Nom. Just as sweetly as before, except for how his face rolls right towards the tightening in his pants and how he just might be meaning to.
Catching Scott by the cheeks, Nom pushes him safely back a few inches. Scott keeps on trying to rub at him, face squishing in his hands. Nom loosens his hold enough for Scott to actually be able to move his face back and forth again, which he does against Nom's fingers and wrists, a rolling chirr leaving him.
Again, it's just so damn sweet that Nom could eat him. He keeps his sharp teeth behind his closed lips, gently supporting Scott around the shoulders and ribs before he hurts his neck. He obviously does not enjoy having his rubbing cut off, since he tries to follow after the hands again, nearly toppling into even more of a splayed pile than he currently is, whining all the way.
Scott really does look desperate for it. Nom breathes in through his nose. Then out. Then in.
"Okay. Scott. I'm sure you're very … uncomfortable. Maybe we go visit Graecie or someone who knows how to help. You don't really want me—" Nom says, as rationally as he can.
"No! I ne-need you in me! Please, please, I can't—" Scott cries, voice cracking.
As he speaks desperately, he squirms in Nom's lap. Seemingly trying to sit up while also pushing himself impossibly closer. Well, it does the job of pushing him a bit closer to that one specific part of Nom that has been mostly spared. A part of him which is becoming increasingly more of a problem and bigger surface area to push against as the situation sinks into his stupid brain, and 'oh my fucking God' was right!
Scott is not thinking straight. He's in distress and confused and probably painfully horny. All of which are reasons to not be turned on. Even if Nom's tail is thrashing below him and his brain is pulling up all sorts of images to pair with the sounds and squirming. It is not appropriate for this situation!
No matter how much his instincts try to hike up and pull Scott towards him, pleased to sink his face into his neck and wrap claws around his body…
Nom shakes his head quickly. He is not the one in heat right now. He is extremely level headed and rational and only turned on a normal amount for a pretty man moaning in his lap, begging him to fuck him.
That is, unfortunately, still a large amount.
"I understand your… feelings…" Nom says, extremely diplomatically. "But we probably shouldn't do that right now, don't you think?"
With an amusing amount of disagreement, Scott shakes his head resolutely. His pointed ears even point down at it. Which is close enough to displeasure in dragon body language to pick up loud and clear, including his huffy little exhales.
Even if they're squeaking and whining in a way that sounds like the most desperate and hurt little thing. That's just how elves sound, apparently. It probably doesn't mean the same needy things as it would with a dragon, Nom reminds himself.
Grabbing onto Scott's struggling hands, Nom helps him sit up outside of his lap. He keeps an awkward but gentle smile on his face, not trying to upset Scott, even while remaining restrained. Scott does need help, and if elf heats are anything like a dragon's, rejection from someone he trusts is the worst thing he can get.
It seems like a good idea to get him upright and moving, perhaps towards a knowledgeable and competent elf like Graecie. Someone to help him out however elves need, not hurt him or scare him—
Until Scott takes full advantage of the support to fall forwards properly.
His arms slide around Nom's neck. Scott struggles with his legs until he's straddling his lap, chest to chest so Nom can feel the vibrations of his moans. They're so close to purring, it pins his own ears down as he carefully wraps his arms around Scott's back. Just petting over his spine, his fragile ribs, his small waist. It's all enough to dig inside his head, in the parts of it that he usually has such good control over.
Made all the worse by how Scott is grinding against him in earnest. It's hard not to grind back, to not react to the pretty and blush-inducing sounds. His wings and tail keep shifting like crazy no matter how carefully frozen he holds the rest of himself.
Scott even smells good like this. It can't be the same things dragons put off, but it's something flowery and uniquely him. Sinking closer with every rub and squirm and grind.
"I'm not so sure this is a good idea," Nom says quietly. "I don't think you really want this, buddy."
Pulling back enough to look into his eyes, Scott grabs Nom's cheeks tightly. More holding on than cupping, but the soft fingers barely have the capacity to hurt at all. His eyes are shiny, pupils so large that the green of his irises is nearly gone, and his face is twisted up in distress still.
But Scott speaks near calmly for his state: "I want you."
It's not exactly a shining endorsement, not when Scott is in this state. Nom really doesn't know enough about elf heats to be handling this…
He does know about dragon hybrid heats though, and all his instincts there are telling him real intently exactly how to take care of Scott like this. How to quell the agony, tame the fires, soothe that awful aching loneliness that feels like it will kill if you don't find someone to entwine yourself into.
From how Scott wraps his arms so desperately around Nom, clinging with shaking weakness, it seems the same in a lot of ways.
The constant pressure and rubbing of their crotches together, that feels pretty right on too. A warm body of someone he's attracted to in his hoard, that always did seem like the best place to go for that aspect of heats. Does Nom fit that for Scott?
While Nom is thinking about that, he startles as Scott cries out in his arms. Nom pulls back enough to make out Scott's face, worried about something being acutely wrong.
The expression he catches isn't pained though.
Eyes pinched shut but fluttering, nose scrunched lightly, mouth fallen open. Scott's body shakes as his cry falls into a quiet, hitching moan.
Oh, that is… that.
Like his strings have been snipped, Scott falls forwards against him. His desperation seems to have simmered down, noises gone quiet too, though his hands are still kneading absently on Nom's front. Like a cat pawing at a nest below them. The comparison only makes Nom's stupid brain soar higher as he forces himself not to rock his uncomfortably straining dick against the other.
If Scott is calmed now, that's all the better. For all Nom knows, elf heats are very short. It would be, objectively, much better. Safer on a war's front, where Nom's own heats are extremely irregular and shortened to crankiness from the danger of it. Logically, objectively, that would be best.
Carefully, Nom rubs his chin against the top of Scott's head. Glad he's here and safe, at least. Not wandered into someone else's bed. The knight barracks that Nom stays in sometimes close to his house above the blacksmith. No, not there.
Or, even worse, off somewhere an enemy could find and snatch him away—
Scott makes a soft noise as Nom accidentally squeezes him closer. Not a noise of discomfort though. Scott lifts his face, still tucked under Nom's chin, and rubs it back and forth against his throat.
His skin is so warm and his body is so soft. The perfect being within the simple parts of Nom's brain. Surely, Scott would look even nicer and safer down in his hoard. Golden hair shining beautifully among his piles of gold and jewels, draped in it until he's somehow even prettier.
The tightening grip pulling Scott into Nom's rolling purr, the half-elf practically squeaks as their groins are rubbed together. Though it only makes Scott perk up once more, grinding down into him in earnest.
Nom exhales roughly at that. At the renewed pleasure grabbing at his stomach and straightening out his spine. Clothes between them, sitting up, Scott's relatively light weight, not to mention how uncoordinated and clumsy he is in his state, most of Nom's dick is not directly touched. It's still doing far too much for Nom in his heightened state, rubbed against earlier and pressed so close to the needy man. He tries to breathe carefully, even as he pushes up into the rutting a bit.
When Scott responds with ever more excited twitches of his hips and pitched noises, restraining even that much is difficult.
Despite the arms around his middle, holding him up, Scott slips downwards slightly in his squirming. The shake in his limbs and weakness of exertion—Nom leans back quickly, only just barely stopping himself from flipping over and getting Scott pressed flat to the bed under him. Scott not leading this feels wrong. Whatever Scott wants, whatever he needs, only that…
With a noise of surprise, Scott falls forwards so that he's nearly laying directly on top of Nom's lounging body. He pushes himself up on his palms, using Nom's chest to prop himself up.
It's still a good view from below him. Golden and pink in the lantern light. Mouth open brazenly as a stream of breathy whines and moans spill out of him. His intense focus on bearing down and rocking their hips together. It's all adorable and extremely hot, especially when the only discernible word that ever leaves him is Nom's name. All of him focused on his pleasure and Nom and how those two things can be related.
Rumbles petering on a moan, Nom grabs Scott's hips, helping the drag remain steadier and rhythmic. Crying out, Scott's pleasure seems to increase at Nom's met enthusiasm. His grinding grows sloppier, more like eager twitching, but Nom helps him along properly. His own pleasure builds with every movement of Scott's body against his straining dick, but he keeps his attention pinned on Scott's expression and wanting movements.
"Nom, please, please," Scott pleads highly.
His hands tug uselessly at Nom's shirt. Then, when that fails, Scott tries to yank at his own shirt, panting. His skin is ever pinker and heat is emanating off of him. Only, he slips without his hands holding him up. Nom's hold keeps him somewhat upright, groin grinding downwards with a fruitless building of hot pressure.
"It's okay, I've got you," Nom breathes.
Scott whines desperately, writhing with painful want.
Nom grabs Scott's leg under the knee, pulling it up a bit. It opens his legs up more, so the space between them can slot fully against Nom's bulge. It's enough for Scott to moan as the rocking fully locks their parts together and ensures every bit of them touches.
That renews Scott's vigor, pitched noises picking up alongside his deep grinding. It feels like a blooming warmth, washing through Nom like waves of fire. Even as he tries to breathe through it, tries to focus solely on Scott. That only makes his hips cant up more, how Scott moves with such intense need for Nom.
The pressure on his dick seems to fill his pelvis, tightening as he feels taken over by the drive of the pleasure. Scott pushing it on him again and again and again.
Hands tightening around Scott's hips and yanking him down, Nom's moan mellows out into a rumbling growl. Slow and filling all of him warmly, Nom's back arches slightly as an orgasm spills over him, wings twitching where they're pinned.
He's a bit embarrassed as the bright pleasure simmers away to a fuzzy lightness. Cumming under clothes and directionless grinding. When he's not even the one in heat here, yet still panting and jerking into the touches like he is.
Scott is squirming in his hold still, trying to drag up friction with his limited movement.
Loosening his hold on him, Nom squints through the edge overstimulation as he once more steadies Scott's push and pull. From how Scott's eyelashes start fluttering, eyes seemingly rolled up behind them, it must help.
More and more, Scott's body gives in to throws of his heated arousal. Seeking a peak of the torturous fires. Scott must be getting close as his breaths all turn to little 'ah, ah, ah'-s.
But as the minutes draw out, Nom's overstimulation shoving back into wanting pleasure, Scott only tightens further and further, not finding his release again.
"Ah, please, please, please!" Scott babbles.
His body hitches like he's wavering right on the edge of that clawing pleasure.
All that comes is frustrated tears in his eyes, a high whine his throat. His words turn to mush as he's lost to a cloying and teasing pleasure that refuses to bring him relief.
Pleading, wanting, needing still there. Heart-wrenching and dick grabbing.
Unable to blink with his thinned pupils, Nom slides his hands under Scott's shirt. Scott arches his body into the touches, like he wants Nom's hands to slip under his skin too. He's blisteringly hot, all of his body literally boiling on an edge.
As gently as Nom is capable of, he pulls the shirt up over Scott's head. While his writhing makes it more difficult, the little calling noises Scott is making seems to be glad for it. Scott is flushed over his freckled collarbones too. Nom has the urge to press his face against them, but he shoves past that to pick Scott up a little instead.
Just enough to start working his pants off too.
When Scott seems to realize what's happening, he eagerly shoves his feet onto the bed, clumsily shoving his own hands into the mix. An endearing show that Nom would like to watch forever. Scott wanting himself bare and on Nom so badly. Like he wants to be pinned on Nom's dick—
Finally, the pants get shoved most of the way off, only stuck around his shins where they're tucked into his high socks. Hugging the half-elf to his chest to hold him in place while he does the annoying work of shucking the clothes off completely, Scott's hand slips downwards with a moan.
Nom can't help looking even while he yanks on the clothes. His hands and brain stall slightly at the sight, mouth left parted.
Scott's fist is tucked against his parts. There's no time to discern what exactly elves have down there, since Scott is already moving it all against his hand. The curve of his wrist against his dick, or close enough from how it's a few inches long and hard, rubbing feverishly. Below that, his clutched thumb presses to his slit, teasing into it just a little. Nom can barely drag himself away from the distraction of a hand rubbing on soft pink between smooth thighs. Streaks of slick begin to coat his skin, shining as bright as jewels and twice as tempting.
Scott kicking in discomfort prompts Nom to tear the rest of his clothes off and throw them off the bed. Scott pulls his wet hand away to catch himself as he's upended by it. Though he jerks his hips up against Nom's bulge before his hand has fully left, ensuring he's not without pleasure for a single second.
Naked and perched on Nom's body, rocking with pleasure and squeaking moans, Scott looks like perfection. Hot hearth and hoard.
When Scott recovers enough to start pawing at Nom's pants, well, that's something. Despite his best effort, he can't hold back from baring his sharpened teeth at Scott, sitting up enough to press them to his neck. His pulse is so quick and warm there.
"In me—need you," Scott begs, getting one of Nom's buttons undone in all his yanking.
"I'm sure you do, but I don't think we should, buddy," Nom says, chuckling breathlessly.
Scott whines in displeasure, dragging his dull nails over Nom's clothes. Unable to tear through cloth, let alone anything more. Elves have no claws, tiny teeth, lithe bodies. It makes Nom want to wrap him up and never let go.
"Please," Scott pleads, shoving his bare hips forwards once more while blinking those big eyes.
Nom just laughs tightly. Far easier than Scott seemed able to, he shoves his own pants down. Freed, his dick is hard again and smeared with some of the cum from earlier. It is also about three times the length of Scott's own small member, and stretches about halfway up the elf's abdomen.
The sight is enough to actually make Scott pause for a moment as he looks wide-eyed. Stupid pride rises within Nom, but he lets himself feel it, because when else would he?
Chirring, Scott rubs his body up against his dick, flushed and eager. Like he wants to jam the cock into himself, even if it will surely crack him in half.
Yup, definitely in heat like a dragon.
Finally, Nom huffs and shoves Scott down flat on his back, switching who is straddling who.
The half-elf only twists in excitement, trying to arch his body up into Nom again. Lifting his hips up as though to catch Nom's dick, or to tempt him to shove it in. He's such a tease like this.
Instead of following those impulses, as much as both of them would very much like to, Nom drops his hand down and wraps it around Scott's dick. That thoroughly distracts him. Scott gasps happily, jerking his hips up into the grip.
Pinning down his legs with his own knees, Nom controls the stroking of his member. It makes him writhe and moan even more, but Nom doesn't let him interrupt the pace and tightness with his desperation. From how his moans grow louder, head thrown back and fingers twisted in the sheets, it seems appreciated.
With nowhere to squirm or twist away from the pleasure, it fills him more and more. With a muffled cry, Scott reaches up and grabs Nom around the neck, dragging their faces closer together. Nom tilts his face down to kiss him, but Scott doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he presses his face right to Nom's throat.
It makes Scott near silent as his spine curves and he shakes with waves of pleasure. Nom can feel his soft lips open against his throat, his hot breath, vibrations from moaning, and moisture from beading tears. His cock twitches in Nom's hand, a small amount of cum smearing on it as he pulls away. He wipes it carelessly on his already stained pants.
Once more, it is like all of Scott's bones turn to liquid in his body. Limp and bare below Nom, flushed with pleasure and relief, still shaking from the strain.
It's a sight so alluring that Nom wants to wrap him up safely in his hoard forever, and also wreck him further.
Scott's emerald eyes are shiny as they open stickily. Nom smiles down at him, accidentally showing off his teeth. But Scott just smiles back, hazily and sweet. Chirring up at Nom, head flopping to the side, before he forces it back to look at Nom again.
Nom laughs, stomach squeezing in his abdomen.
As though seeking out the parts of Nom that Scott is so easily controlling, Scott slips his hands right under Nom's shirt where it's riding up. Against his abs and ribs and chest. Once more acting like he wants to meld their bodies.
And with such sweet noises, how could he refuse?
"Yeah, yeah," Nom says, amused.
He shucks his shirt off quickly, much to Scott's joy. The elf has no such reservations about shoving his face to Nom's collarbones, rubbing at the skin with his cheeks and jaws. It's like some sort of marking, or else Scott just has a weird thing for it. Not that Nom minds the thought of their scents being all over each other. Flowers and metal and a layer that is not able to be placed by the conscious brain.
A small purr rolls out of Nom. Embarrassing, if Scott wasn't so lost to him. As is, Nom does some pressing of his own face to Scott's head, curls soft on his mouth.
So sweet, until Scott once more begins arching up against his dick. Just as sweet, really, maybe even more so. Trying to lure Nom into fucking him open and full.
Nom's face stains red at the thought alone. The image of it, his dick feels painfully hard with want. But Nom shakes his head sharply. Elves are too small, he can't risk hurting him like that. And Nom is not even thinking about what would happen if he does fuck him and fill him up—nope, not going there. Not when he's not the one in heat.
Scott though is obviously falling back into the throws of hot arousal, since he snakes his hand between them to try to grab Nom's dick. The brush of his soft fingers makes Nom's eyelids flutter, but the directionless and desperate lifting of Scott's hips are too much.
Breathing out, Nom grabs Scott's hand and presses it down beside his head. He whines in displeasure, but Nom ignores it in favor of chucking his own pants the rest of the way down.
It's obvious that Scott notices, since he trills in excitement. Still rocking his hips temptingly and scrunching up his fingers.
With a sharp smile, Nom shoves his dick up against all of Scott's parts. Gasping, Scott tilts his hips up while seeming to melt beneath the proper touches to his needing bits. Nom's not far off. The warmth and wetness up against his dick sends pleasure deep into his middle, up his spine. His wings spread out slightly, hiding Scott under him further.
Nom pistons his hips back and forth against the other, focusing on getting himself against as much of Scott's length as he can. Obviously appreciated from how Scott twists with heated pleasure, breathy clipped noises. Though he keeps pushing his hips up into Nom's dick, whining when it slips past his hole every time.
As Nom grabs Scott's knees and pushes them upwards, it's tempting. More so as he can feel the clenching of his hole. Eager.
"Yeah? You want it?" Nom asks smugly.
"Yes, yes, ah!" Scott cries.
Nom's tail thwips, pleased. Like he's taking care of him so good, mating him so good—
Teeth piercing through his tongue as his chest rattles, Nom very purposefully only drops his fingers down to nudge into Scott's hole. Not that it takes much work, since the slick dripping out of him makes the slide in so easy that Nom has to worry about his nails.
Not that Scott has any complaints. He clenches all over and cries out like he was speared on an actual dick. Nom can't even tell if he came at that alone or not.
Chuckling at the overflowing gratification, Nom thrusts his fingers in and out in time with his hips. Slow and steady, to let Scott adjust, but he may as well be ramming into him mercilessly from how he cries and moans loudly, legs twitching and arching his back with every slide against and in him.
It's so different from how Scott usually is. Quiet and understated and shielded. Off in corners, sidelines, slightly behind elbows.
Now, Scott is laid out under him, bloomed completely open with nothing hidden away. Neediness in his high noises, the tears in his eyelashes, the greedy grinding of his body. So openly wanting and needing.
Nom feels just as greedy to see it, to cause it, to taste and swallow it whole.
Watching Scott's face intently, Nom quickens his pace. Scott gasps as the sounds are knocked out of him. His twitching fingers stumble across the end of Nom's scaled wing where it's draped down around them, squeezing with desperation. The touch only urges Nom on further, like the dragon parts of him are pleased to be acknowledged. He purrs and drags his teeth along Scott's neck and face, pushing another finger into him.
More chirring pleasure falls from Scott's lips.
The feeling of heat and wetness growing between them grabs at Nom's mind distractingly though. Against his dick, grabbing at his stomach warmly, hotly. He bears down harder, cock rubbing on Scott's forcibly enough to make the elf slam his eyes shut and whine. Every upwards thrust prods his tip into Scott's soft stomach. That only makes Nom want to thrust up into him further, mate him deep, tie them together.
Clicks shower down from Nom's mouth as he quickly grabs Scott's free leg. Only one hand free, he wraps his arm around both of Scott's thighs. They press together as Nom hugs them. Scott's ankles kick from the overwhelming pleasure as the length of his legs are restricted. They end up hooked over Nom's shoulders. Pressing down to urge him closer, even as he tightens his thighs around his dick.
Scott grinds up into him to worsen the pleasure even more. It envelopes Nom's dick with soft warmth from every angle, the friction between the two of them intense to the point of both of them crying out at once.
Every drive into that gripping softness is a new wave of electric light throughout him. High and heady. The edges of the waves nearly overlap, almost pooling bright enough to fall into full satisfaction. His short moans mix with Scott's. Forceful pressing together on both sides, desperation to sink into each other, to meld together, to fall into the high pleasure.
A spurt of moisture spills over Nom's hand as he shoves his fingers in overly deep, in time with Scott yelling and shaking all over. Cum and slick from the rubbed out pleasure. He's only tightened further though, feet hooked behind Nom's head and whining half wordlessly. The other half that can make words begs and pleads for it, for Nom, for his dick, for ah, ah, ah!
Tilting his head to the side, Nom bites down on the place where Scott's knee meets his shin. He tastes of floral candy and salt and skin.
Through lidded and hazy eyes, Nom watches the mewling half-elf while pounding into his dick and thighs. The sight makes him purr and growl together.
His fingers grow shaky and sloppy as he nearly loses his limbs to the tingling lightness filling him whole. Hot like embers, full flames, swelling lava. All of it coming again and again every second, pushing him closer. Until, finally, Scott moans his name while so lost and breathy that Nom cums hard too, all of it flooding through him brutal as iron.
Slamming his dick rough against Scott, sinking his teeth in deeper, jamming his fingers into Scott's hole deep and high. Nom curls and spreads them as far as he can, stopping Scott up even when his knot swells between only his thighs. His spread fingers catch on Scott's insides all the same as a knot, his cry cutting off so that Nom's name spreads out long and shaking, with all of his body. More than that, since his green eyes roll back in his head and his hole squeezes around Nom's fingers just as hard as he pushes into him, an orgasm ringing through him from ears to toes.
Nom's eyelids flutter a bit, fighting not to close as his cum spurts over Scott's front and stomach with the throbbing waves of pleasure. It's as though the kicking of his cock is in time with the hitches running through Scott below him. Despite his best efforts, he's forced to close his eyes and groan as the pleasure spreads from his middle to all throughout him.
A complete a total loss to feelings so much and pleasant that his body can't contain it.
Slumping down onto his ass, Nom carefully pulls his fingers free—earning a small whimper from Scott—and works Scott's legs down too. His dick almost burns from the dragging on his half full knot, but he lays Scott down gently, rubbing on his hips and thighs.
He also dusts over the teeth indents on the side of his knee, which luckily didn't break the skin, but are reddened. Scott shivers at the touch, which stirs up stupid pride in Nom.
All the same as when he looks over all of Scott, tail wagging away. His cum painting his front, the slick between his legs and dripping down his thighs, the bit of drool and tears on his flickering face. His knot aches and he rumbles at how perfect Scott looks now.
His staring draws out until Scott makes a small noise, struggling to open his eyes. Nom immediately leans forwards and grabs his hand. The sweat on his skin is cool now, the fever finally being sated a little bit.
Right. Good.
This was all about helping Scott through his heat…
"Oops," Nom mumbles, looking down at the mess he left on the fucked out elf.
Better out than in, at least. And he does look pretty good like this, even as he forces himself to grab a cloth off the ground to clean him up. The dragon purrs at the idea of leaving his cum there marking him or licking it up until Scott is squirming again, but the dragon is deftly ignored.
Once Scott is cleaned up, Nom leans down closer to him. He presses his face close to Scott's, wiping away any moisture, before rubbing on his neck.
"Alright, Scott?" Nom asks, a bit of concern wells up.
Scott turns towards the sound, squinting his eyes open. He seems extremely tired now, all the energy drained from his body, but a sweet and dazed smile crosses his lips. Then, he nearly knocks their heads together as he clumsily rubs his face against Nom's. Quiet chirrs sound from his throat.
Laughing shortly, Nom pulls Scott into his arms and helps him back against the pillows. The blankets are all askew, so Nom takes a few seconds to set them back up properly around Scott. Not nesting, they just need fixed is all. Even when the half-elf whines softly and reaches out for him when he pulls away to do it.
"I'm not going anywhere, hold your horses," Nom says.
The whine Scott replies with does not agree with him.
Who is Nom to deny him?
When Nom lays down, Scott immediately clings to him. Curled up right to his side, face smushed into his neck, all but purring in sleepy contentment. Nom slides his arm around his back, petting up and down his spine, while his wings cover them both.
His fingers end up coming to rest in Scott's golden curls. His claws run through them, inordinately pleased by the gold, the warm body pressed against him, the afterglow simmering in him, and the fact that he helped Scott through his heat and made him feel good. Probably he shouldn't be basking in it so much, but he was woken up by all this and is tired, so sue him.
At least it's all sorted out now. They'll have to talk in the morning, probably about emotions and other awful things, but it seems like elf heats are easily dealt with. That's lucky.
With Scott already asleep curled up in Nom's arms, he drifts off into a deep sleep once more. Happy for a job well done.
At least until he wakes up a few hours later to grinding and moaning on him.
Sighing, Nom grabs Scott's hips and flips him over.
Maybe elf heats aren't much different from dragons' after all.
—
Scott wakes up, groggy and sore and feeling like a bucket of water has been dumped over his head. In multiple ways.
Physically, the sweat of a broken fever. And possibly other fluids.
Mentally—
Scott slaps his hands over his cheeks as embarrassment absolutely floods through him. Oh, no.
He sits up quickly, blankets falling down around him. His body is bare beneath them, damp and shaky. He draws his legs up instinctively, trying to block his body where he can. Though it does little as he looks around the bed, embarrassment only growing worse and worse.
Especially when he sees Nom laid beside him, bare beneath the blankets too.
Oh, no.
"Oh, no," Scott breathes.
That alone is enough to make Nom begin to stir. Scott isn't sure whether he wants the man to wake up or keep sleeping, so he just sort of sits listfully there. Staring down at Nom with wide eyes.
Which is why they make eye contact the moment that Nom's eyes flutter open.
He looks relaxed and sleepy for a moment. Face free of any tension or lines of worry, dark hair mused up and falling on his forehead, a small amount of pink smudged on his usually cool cheeks, and his wings limp over him like another blanket. Sort of like he's content to wake up here, next to Scott. Like he's not on guard as he always is.
Then, Nom takes in Scott's clutching hands and too wide expression and tense posture. The sleepiness is gone in a second.
"Scott," Nom says, sitting up quickly. Yup, definitely bare beneath the blankets too. "You seem… not in heat anymore."
Scott slaps his hands fully over his entire face, squeaking.
He can hear the sound of Nom shifting beside him, perhaps also struggling with what exactly to do. For a brief moment, the tips of fingers scuff against Scott's arms. But when Scott jolts the smallest amount, they pull away.
"How much do you remember?" Nom asks, sounding concerned.
"All of it," Scott mumbles.
"Oh, that's good. I mean—better than if you didn't," Nom says, trailing slightly. "Sorry, I don't actually know much about elf heats."
Because, yup, that's what Scott was in. And spent with Nom. At least both of them didn't know much about it…
Peaking out from between his fingers, Scott takes in Nom sat only a foot before him. Frowning, one hand reaching out but stopped with hesitation, tail thwipping nervously behind him. A warmth still nags between Scott's legs at the sight, but he firmly ignores it.
"I'm sorry," Scott says, eyes shiny.
"Wha—For me?" Nom asks, swinging his hand around to point at himself.
"Yes," Scott says. His ears pin down low with the rest of his posture. "I barged in here so inappropriately, and pushed myself on you—"
"Hey, stop," Nom says, grabbing Scott's hand and squeezing it. "None of that. I figured out it was just a heat pretty quickly, dragon hybrids have them too. I get it all."
"You're not upset or…?" Scott asks, looking up at Nom hesitantly.
"No way, that'd be fucked up. I decided to spend it with you and help, I knew what I was getting into. Well, broadly. I was more worried if I hurt you," Nom says, running his thumb over Scott's knuckles.
As though checking, Scott shifts slightly. He is a bit sore, but not like an injury. Plus, he remembers that Nom didn't even actually—
No, none of that! Scott blinks very quickly while shaking his head in answer, glancing at Nom sparsely. The dragon hybrid is looking back at him steadily throughout, seemingly tracing his eyelashes.
"Plus, you know… It was a good time for me too," Nom says lowly.
As though the fever has lit inside him anew, Scott is painted red all over his body at the embarrassment that comes with those words. But instead of being paired with shame like before, now it's horribly flustering. Pleased.
"Oh, God," Scott chirps, hiding his face behind his free hand.
Nom laughs at him. Gently, he grabs that hand too, peeling it away. While it feels almost too much to see and be seen like this, teetering on the edge of going properly invisible, he can't pull away. Not when he's glad to hear it. Likes to hear it, even.
Slowly, the worst edges of the mortification leaves Scott. Still simmering a bit, but not as bad. He's left feeling tired, a bit uncomfortable, achy and emotional, plus that mess of slightly more manageable wanting still inside him. Too much to really deal with, but he is able to sit with it without crying or throwing himself at Nom again.
At least until Nom speaks up again.
"I do have to warn you though, at least Graecie knows, since she barged in here while you were sleeping when we didn't show up for our duties. She had quite the words for me... She probably would have hit me with her spear if you weren't all curled up on me," Nom says, laughing with faint chagrin.
"Oh, no," Scott repeats.
"Yeah, so, you can expect your turn with her. She'll probably scold your ear off for not telling others and preparing for your heat properly. Though you'll be spared of the spear, since she likes you more…" Nom says, fake scorned.
Admittedly, Scott's heart fully jumps at the thought of the other elf, still quick to want to throw his arms around any of his friends. Luckily just in a cuddling way with Graecie, but it's still embarrassing! Especially when she knows what happened. When she apparently saw some of it.
He'd repeat his distressed exclamation, but it doesn't need to be said at this point. He does think it though. Repeatedly.
"I didn't know the signs, it was my first one," Scott says, pouting. "I didn't even know if I would get one for sure, I'm only a half-elf."
Nom jerks up where he had begun to relax.
"Your—first?" Nom asks.
"Yes? I think elves get them later, but the human side must have sped it up. I had no clue what was happening until I was halfway to your bed," Scott mumbles.
Nom's mouth falls open and he seems to stall internally. Scott's face furrows in concern. Has he said something upsetting?
As he tugs on his hands, moving to pull them free, Nom snaps back to himself.
"We're not going to worry about that right now, I think," Nom announces.
"Okay?" Scott says, blinking.
Whatever that means. Nom's a strange guy sometimes, he says funny things. Scott is used to it. Likes it, or whatever…
A glance at the window shows pale sunlight spilling in from under the curtain. A day beginning. After multiple already lost to all this. There's probably so much work to do.
Scott's eyes stick to their linked hands. His body hums at the sight. He wants to draw the hands close, right to his chest, rub against them. Have all of Nom close to him.
While Scott tries to bite his tongue against it, the fact that Nom is being so still and attentive and assuring, so different from how he typically is, he can't manage.
"Um, do we have duties we're needed for today, or can we…?" Scott trails off nervously.
"Fuck or cuddle?" Nom asks bluntly.
"Cuddle!" Scott says, voice high and blush returning with fervor.
Laughing, Nom sweeps his arms around Scott and pulls him close. There's an initial stiffness at being pressed to a naked body, and Nom's naked body at that, but that fades quickly. In its place, warmth and affection swells up.
Scott swallows the strange feeling that rises up in his throat, but he gives in to the urge to wrap his arms around Nom and press his face to his shoulder.
He's glad it turned out this way.