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Dewdrop doesn’t behave. Not on stage, not at home, not in private (sometimes in private. In the right conditions. If he’s getting something out of it.) It’s the first thing anyone learns about him, a trait easily caught onto right next to his rage and impatience. He thinks it’s easier that way, less chances for him to be hurt or whatever.
That never puts Aether off. He’s patient, unbearably so, he puts up with everything Dew can throw at him and more. Almost.
They’re all sweaty and running on the fumes of adrenaline, sitting in a bar after the last Ritual of the tour leg, and Dew refuses to leave him alone. He’s been perched on Aether’s shoulder for who knows how long, chatting it up with an exhausted Mountain about meaningless nonsense. Not even he knows what the topic really is; the weed and beer muddle his brain too much. He just wants to piss Aether off, using him as an armrest while he talks as loud as he can over the music and dance floor chatter, right in Aether’s ear. With how tired he is, it isn’t hard. His patience is finally wearing thin and Dew can tell by the way his leg bounces on the floor, fingers drumming against the bar counter. He’s not happy.
Mountain turns to Rain and leaves Aether helpless. Waiting for someone else to come take Dew off his hands, but no one does. He’s done talking, now that his conversation partner has abandoned him, but he’s still leaning up against Aether, body radiating heat to make him sweat.
“Can you get off of me?” Aether prods, and rolls his shoulder. Dew’s arm falls to his side and he huffs.
“You’re no fun,” he mutters, but he still sidles up close to Aether anyway, even if he can’t drape his arm across his shoulder, “It’s so fucking loud here. The music sucks.”
“You’re the one being the noisiest, screaming right in my ear while you were talking to Mountain. What is your problem?”
Dew smirks, a devilish little thing that suits his face all too well. “Whaddya mean? I was just taking to him.”
“You were shouting in my ear. I think I’m gonna have permanent damage.”
“Fuckin’ sorry this place is loud as shit! It’s not my fault.”
Aether growls, low and menacing, and Dew’s grin falls. He has the quintessence ghoul right where he wants him— pissed off, entirely unfocused on anyone else, and right next to him. “If you don’t fuck off right now, you’re gonna regret it, Dew.”
The fire ghoul shoots him another charming little smile. “What are you gonna do if I don’t?”
What he doesn’t expect is silence. He watches Aether move to stand, waving to the Cardinal from across the room. His movements are tense, strained, angry. The Cardinal nods to him and then Dew’s hand is in his, being dragged out of the bar with a bruising grip on his delicate fingers. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Aether flags down a taxi, lucky in his timing to have stepped outside as one was driving by.
“Making you regret it. Get the fuck in.”
He finally turns so Dew can see his face.
He’s not just tired; Aether is exhausted, angry, and all of it aimed at Dew.
Sure, he pulled some shit at the Ritual, was a little more irritating than usual, but he didn’t expect that glow of quintessence in Aether’s eyes, deep voids that suck his very soul in. He shoves Dew into the taxi and slides in next to him, “Closest hotel.”
Dew smiles sweetly when Aether leans back into the plush leather. He does not notice the hand hovering over his thigh until it lands, squeezing him firmly. “Not a sound.”
The fire ghoul rolls his eyes and shakes off the surprise, melting into the car seat with a soft sigh. Aether drums his fingers on the inside of Dew’s spread thighs, palm sliding up and down, closer, then further. It’s annoying. The rhythm breaks when Aether suddenly lands his hand right on Dew’s crotch. He’s already wet enough for Aether to feel it, and he nearly gasps at the contact before he shoots the quintessence ghoul a dirty look, lip bitten to hide any noises he might make.
Thick fingers press into the damp fabric and he lets his eyes slip shut, embracing the sensation completely. It’s a short drive, barely even five minutes, and Aether spends all of it with his fingers pressing rhythmically into Dew’s cunt, trying to wring a reaction out of him.
It doesn’t work, and Dew is so relaxed he looks like a cat laid out in the sun. He can feel Aether’s rage and all it does is excite him. The car stops abruptly and he grunts when he jolts forward, Aether’s hand slipping away like it was never there. He gives the driver a generous tip and Dew is pulled out of the car by his arm, yelping at how Aether’s claws dig into him.
He keeps the grip on the fire ghoul as he stalks to the elevator, pulling the room key from the pocket of his old jeans and jamming his finger into the button for the fourth floor. The whole ride up is enough for the enclosed space to smell like Aether’s anger, and his lust; an offputting combination of ice and red wine. Dew thinks it smells intoxicating.
The elevator dings and Aether’s hand moves to the small of his back, pushing him out and down the hall. He creases the fabric in his fist— Dew mourns his favorite leather jacket— forcing him to stand right where he is while Aether unlocks the door.
“On the bed, clothes off.”
That’s an order Dew can obey, watching Aether enter the hotel bathroom to, presumably, strip himself. The fire ghoul shakes the jacket from his shoulders and practically rips the shirt off his body, groaning when he has to lean down to untie his boots. He ends up planting them on the bed and throwing them off with urgency, careless to the mess he’s making. The bathroom door creaks open again, his eyes darting to where Aether stands in the doorway, pissed.
“Has no one ever taught you manners?” He growls, Dew grins, kicking the other boot off his foot and leaning back, still in his jeans. Aether’s fully clothed, only having discarded the thick hoodie now that they were in a warm building. His arms are on full display, crossed sternly over his chest, and it makes Dew’s mouth water. “I said clothes off.”
“Alright, alright! Fucking pushy,” he mumbles, maintaining eye contact while his hands work to unbutton his jeans. They’re too tight to remove while he’s sitting, so he stands and shimmies out of them with a soft huff. “There, asshole.”
Dew doesn’t have the reaction time to stop Aether from launching at him and tangling a massive hand in his hair. “I’m not the asshole here. You had to keep fucking with me on stage, had to scream in my ear while Mountain was right fucking there. You’ve been a little shit all day and someone clearly needs to teach you a lesson.”
The hand in his hair tugs harder and Dew pants out a whiny breath, “Oh, and it’s gonna be you?”
“Gonna have to be. Knees.”
Even as they try to buckle under him when Aether lets go, he makes a point out of not kneeling. Aether’s purple eyes narrow, scrutinizing him and studying his features, his little quirks and tells that this is affecting him more than he shows. It is, there’s an obvious wet spot in his boxers, but he’s not losing the game this easy. “Dew,” Aether warns, “on your knees.”
Stubbornly, he crosses his arms and glares up at the quintessence ghoul. It’s a rush, the anticipation of how Aether plans to deal with him, how he’ll be punished.
Aether sucks in a breath through his nose, and steps back. Dew smiles when color flushes his cheeks, knowing he smells aroused, like vanilla and bourbon. His smile falls when Aether turns, planting himself firmly in the armchair in the corner of their room, and staring at him.
“I don’t play with bad boys who don’t listen.”
He splutters, pink dusting his cheekbones as he glares at Aether. It sends a bolt of arousal down his spine that he doesn’t like.
This is a familiar scene, one they do far more often than Dew would ever admit, but never fails to knock the breath from his lungs whenever Aether is in the mood for it. It’s like the air around him changes, too saturated with his need for control and his arousal that it becomes thick and tense. And the way he studies Dew with those usually-bright eyes, as if he’s an inconvenience…
Dewdrop hates how much wetter it gets him.
“Come here, and kneel.”
His knees wobble as he stalks over, his unbothered façade slipping with every second that passes. He stands in front of Aether, but still refuses to kneel. He’ll brat his way through this until Aether forces him not to.
“Dew,” he says, and it’s a warning, one that makes him shiver in anticipation. “I won’t say it again.”
With a heavy sigh, Dew obeys, but he makes sure to keep his eyes fiery and locked onto Aether’s, lacking any of the submission he wants to see. A hand comes to rest on his head and Aether has the audacity to scratch at his scalp; a calming gesture that Dew is painfully weak to.
His eyes soften, slightly, he feels it happen and hates himself for it. Aether knows too many of his weaknesses for him to last long.
“Why have you been such a little brat today?”
“I haven’t been any more than fuckin’ usual.” Dew spits, trying to lean away from Aether’s touch, but that would mean landing right against his thigh.
Aether sighs. He presses his thumb, gently, where Dew’s forehead meets his horns and smiles at the way his eyebrows twitch up, “Wanted to be taught a lesson? Wanted it to be me?”
Dew growls over a bitten lip, “Don’t get snappy with me. I know exactly what you want.” He murmurs, leaning down to loom over the little fire ghoul, “You want your Daddy, huh?”
It rattles Dew to his core. This was not his goal. He wanted rough, harsh Aether. This… it plucks at a certain string in his brain that he’s just not strong enough to ignore the call of. His breath hitches and the grin that rises on Aether’s lips makes his stomach drop.
“It’s okay, don’t be shy.” Aether purrs. His hand moves from Dew’s hair to— arguably worse— his cheek, to cradle it. Hold him delicately like he’s fragile.
“Fuck off,” he mumbles, but his heart isn’t in it anymore. He feels out of his mind already.
Dew is weak for Aether, as much as he’ll claim it’s what he does, or what he says, it always comes back to Aether. If it were anyone else, he might be able to play pretend for just a little longer, might hold out until they really dig in.
But he can’t help himself. He doesn’t want to, he wishes desperately that he could fake it out longer, but Aether’s palm is so cool against his overheated skin and he’s pulling him apart from the inside out with that Satan-forsaken quintessence. He melts, right into Aether’s hand.
“That’s it, baby boy,” he croons, “you don’t need to fight it.” He tucks a stray chunk of hair behind Dew’s ear and lifts his chin, “But I still have to punish you for being bad, okay?”
Dew bites off a whine. Shakes his head and tries to clear the settling fog that Aether brings to his brain. “Don’t be fuckin’ patronizing.” He growls, glaring up through his eyelashes.
“It’s only gonna be worse the more you fight,” Aether meets his glare with one that’s far more terrifying, one that makes Dew shrink in on himself. Still, he lets out a low growl.
Aether sighs. “Fine, you want to do it my way?”
He squishes Dew’s cheeks in his hands. The magick is instant, Aether’s quintessence coursing through his body in a way that knocks the breath from his lungs, he sags in Aether’s hold with already-glassy eyes. Aether watches them gloss over with a contented smile, “So easy.”
Dew’s whole body buzzes with magick, with Aether. He doesn’t notice his own moan, nor the way his legs grow wet with slick, he only knows Aether. His Aether. His Daddy.
“How’s that, hm?”
He nods lazily, nothing but worship and lust left in his eyes. “I prefer to work for it,” Aether murmurs, “but magick works just fine when bad boys won’t cooperate.”
“I’m not bad,” he whines, apparently forgetful of all his work to get Aether frustrated. Dew’s hands end up on his knees, desperate to hold anything he can manage.
Aether hums like he’s considering it. “You’re only bad because you want this, but did you ever think it would be easier to ask? Be my good, sweet boy and ask me for it?”
Dew can feel the way he heats up and he buries his face in Aether’s thick thigh. If he had half a mind to think beforehand, he wouldn’t have, because Aether still smells of sweat and musk and it’s going straight downstairs. He pants into the fabric of Aether’s jeans, laving his tongue over the rough denim to get a taste, wholly unaware of the way Aether is staring at him.
“Droplet,” he warns, and Dew freezes on the spot. “Up, on my lap, before I change my mind.”
He’s never been faster about something in his life, clambering to bracket Aether’s legs with his own, pressed flush to his chest. He can’t help himself and he licks Aether’s neck, desperate to get a taste.
A hand snakes into his hair to pull him away and he whines, high and reedy, as a complaint. “No, lemme—”
“Dew.”
The tone makes him freeze, commanding every bit of his attention. He finally meets Aether’s eyes again, blown black and clearly aroused, “Undo my jeans. Then we’ll see if you get what you want.”
He pushes himself away, just enough to reach for Aether’s button and zipper, unfastening them both in impressive time for how he’s shaking like a leaf. He nearly drools when Aether’s cock springs out, hard and flushed. Then his hips are held firm in Aether’s callused hands and he’s sinking down on it with a pathetic whimper. No warning at all.
“Sit still.”
Dew’s neck slowly cranes up to meet his eyes again and bites back a real sob, “No, no, Aether—”
“Hm?”
His head spins. “Daddy… I can’t, please lemme move,” he complains, hands fisted in Aether’s shirt as he tries desperately to obey.
Aether brushes his sweaty hair from his forehead, “No, baby. You’re gonna sit right there, completely still, until I say.” He pulls Dew flush to his chest and the ghoul whines, needy. “Maybe you should have been good. Sit still for ten minutes, then we’ll see how I feel.”
The idea of waiting ten minutes for Aether to fuck him makes him want to cry. He pushes himself from Aether to look him in the eye, lip quivering and eyes unfocused.
“Ask nicely and I’ll touch you,” Aether supplies, weak to that face Dew gives him when he doesn’t get his way.
“Please, please touch me,” his hips twitch as he pleads, but Aether doesn’t scold. It wasn’t intentional.
He does make a face at Dew; raising one eyebrow expectantly. “Missing something, baby?”
“Daddy, please.”
Aether sighs. His hands ghost up and down Dew’s wiry torso, stopping at his chest. He traces the scars under his pecs, symmetrical and, in Aether’s opinion, “Pretty.” He pointedly ignores the whine Dew gives him, just barely avoiding Dew’s nipples, keeping his thumbs from where Dew wants them most. “Pretty boy, aren’t you?” Aether murmurs, and presses the sweetest kiss to Dew’s forehead.
“Can you kiss me? Please?” Dew’s eyebrows are upturned and pouty, cute. Aether has no choice but to oblige, licking at Dew’s bottom lip and feeling his mouth fall open, welcoming him in. He moans into it, fisting his hands in Aether’s shirt.
Hands roam, holding the small of his back, rubbing his upper arm and shoulder rhythmically, sliding into his soft hair and pulling just right. When they part, Dew is panting against Aether’s lips, his eyes heavy. The eye contact is too much for him, and he nestles his forehead into Aether’s neck to whine against his skin, nipping at it.
He feels like he’s floating. Aether has used this trick before, an easier way to get him docile without a fight— whenever Aether can’t be bothered. In the foggy haze he’s in, he can admit softly that he likes it, loves when any control he thought he had is ripped out from under him and he’s left to be a mess in Aether’s lap. He murmurs it into the quintessence ghoul’s neck, muffled and slurred as he drools all over his scent gland. Aether’s scent is all-consuming and intoxicating, chocolate and red wine and something electric, buzzing with energy. The cold edge to it is gone, replaced by warmth and comfort, Dew is grateful; he couldn’t deal with that coldness, that anger, in this state of mind. Not that Aether would do any of this if he was truly pissed off.
“My sweet boy,” Aether sighs and Dew can hear the smile in his words, “see? You’re being so good right now. Such a good boy for your daddy.”
Dewdrop whimpers, worries soft skin between his fangs, but doesn’t dare to bite down. He pulls away from the safety of being hidden in the crook of Aether’s neck, showing him the vulnerability, the adoration in his eyes. Aether can’t possibly help himself and he rolls his hips up, slow and deliberate, savoring the drag of himself inside Dew, who grabs his arms like a lifeline and moans.
“Daddy, Daddy please,” the words slip out before he has the mind to stop them. To his credit, he doesn’t move himself at all, just sits there and takes it. Aether likes that more than he should. “Please fuck me.”
With a gentle coo, Aether cups Dew’s warm cheek and shakes his head. “Not yet. It’s barely been three minutes.” His tone is firm, but kind, and he watches in amusement as Dew whimpers again, melting against him.
“You’re so tight around me,” Aether mumbles, holding Dew’s face to his chest and aiming the filthy words at his ear in that husky voice, “so much slick. Dripping all over yourself for Daddy?” He clenches at that, and Aether’s eyelids flutter, though he can’t see it. “What happened to all that attitude?”
Dew nuzzles his pecs and refuses to answer. Aether’s shirt is soaked with his drool. He’s purring, and loudly, though it’s entirely on instinct— most of what he’s doing is, reduced only to his most primal desires and the feeling of Aether around him. In a different state of mind, he’d vehemently deny how much he enjoys this, but now? Alone, with only Aether to hold him and treat him sweet? He can’t get enough. His aforementioned attitude is long gone, replaced by obedience and adoration, borderline worship.
The quintessence ghoul doesn’t bother coaxing an answer out of him. He pets all over Dew’s small body; a firm hand, up and down his thigh, plush lips pressed against his forehead. His unoccupied hand finds Dew’s and he laces their fingers together, admiring how tiny his little fire ghoul is. Dewdrop makes a soft noise when their hands slide together, a quiet and muffled moan. It makes Aether’s dick twitch inside him, the idea that such a simple, loving gesture can wring a reaction like that out of Dew.
He craves more.
The hand on his thigh slides up Dew’s torso to his chest, barely ghosting over a nipple, and the fire ghoul shivers. Aether can’t help himself, and he holds Dew steady, leaning him backwards. “Shh, I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you,” he murmurs against Dew’s skin, finally tilted back enough to get his mouth on his chest.
He starts slow, savoring the purr that still rumbles through his little ghoul as he presses soft kisses to his flesh. Dew makes desperate little sounds between labored breaths, a mantra of pleading and, at length, he begins chanting Daddy. Aether’s heart soars.
When Dew starts twitching, obviously growing impatient, he moves on to his nipples, and the moan it wrenches out of Dew is so beautiful he has to tell him. He thumbs at the other nipple and surfaces, “You make such sweet noises like this, baby boy.”
His head is hung back, but he lifts it to stare up at Aether with wide eyes. He wants to beg, wants Aether to move inside him, wants more, but he bites his tongue. All that leaves him is a whine through a bitten lip. That mouth is back on him again and his efforts to be a little less noisy dissolve, lips falling open as a string of mewls and chirps spill out. He threads his fingers through Aether’s short hair to keep him there, back arched into his touch. He’s sensitive, the piercings threaded through the nubs make it so much worse, or better, he can’t tell. When Aether groans around his nipple he almost sobs.
“Daddy, please, please I can’t. Fuck me, I can’t,” he babbles, tears welling up in his two toned eyes. It’s not something he can just wait out anymore, he feels how wet he’s gotten Aether’s jeans just from cockwarming him.
Aether glances at the clock. It’s been seven minutes, and his patience is seconds away from snapping. He sighs, blowing cool air over Dew’s chest as he sits up properly again, “Want me to fuck you now?”
“Please,” Dew begs, cradling Aether’s face. He’s so desperate. It looks good on him.
“Here, or on the bed?”
Dew shakes his head, cursing Aether for making him think. He’s incapable of making a decision right now. A knowing look crosses Aether’s face and he kisses Dew as an apology, “Bed. You’ll be more comfortable. Up, so I can take these off, huh?”
On shaking legs, Dew stands, obedient as Aether has ever seen him, “Go, sit on the bed. On your back.”
He follows orders, but keeps his eyes firmly on Aether even as he situates pillows around where he’ll lay, in the vague shape of a nest. Again, reduced to instinct. He watches the quintessence ghoul pull off his shirt, it’s always a sight to see; the coarse hair that covers his chest goes down in a line pointing to his dick, the loveliest happy trail Dew thinks he’s ever seen, and how his tummy pokes out over his pants while they’re still on. Dew wants to grab it, to squeeze, to worship. And his chest, soft and fat and perfect for Dew to bury his face in when they’re both tired and thoroughly fucked out. He yearns for it. It’s a shame that his cock is already out and Dew’s gotten a good enough look at it, but he turns around as he throws his pants off and Dew chokes on spit at the way his ass jiggles when he steps out of them.
Everything about Aether is addicting.
“Did you ask if you could touch yourself, sweet boy?”
He finally tears his eyes away from Aether’s body and sees that, yeah, he was touching himself. “I didn’t— didn’t realize… I’m sorry.” He sobs, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
The bed dips and his wrists are taken away, Aether staring down at him. Loving, lustful. “It’s okay, baby. You wouldn’t do that on purpose, would you?”
“No, no. I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ll be good.”
“You are being good.” Aether murmurs, lining himself up. He leans down to kiss Dew as he teases his slit with the head of his cock, breathing in Dew’s moans like oxygen. Too slow, too gentle, he starts pushing in— really it’s more like he’s pulling Dew down on his cock, but the fact that he’s doing it so effortlessly makes Dew’s head spin. His hands wrap around Dew’s slight waist, massive around him, and he looks up at Aether with watery eyes.
He shushes him, bringing one loving hand up to cradle his face, “Feel good, baby?”
Dew nods lazily, every exhale punctuated by an unwitting mewl. His arms are heavy, but he manages to lift them to Aether’s face, whining desperately as he tries to pull him in for another kiss. He needs to be closer.
“Not yet,” Aether swats his hands away with a soft smile. “Sathanas,” he murmurs, breathless, “you’re so cute.”
If he wasn’t stuffed full of Aether’s fat cock, he might have been able to argue, but he’s buried so deep and he’s pushed up against all the right spots. “Daddy,” he moans, “fuck me already.”
He knows his voice is reacquiring its bratty lilt, the one Aether tells him makes him sound like a spoiled child who isn’t getting their way, but he doesn’t care. Aether frowns down at him, “Don’t be demanding.”
Dew squeezes his arms, he could nearly drool at how delicious Aether’s biceps look, thick and strong, but so soft when they’re relaxed, “Please, please fuck me.”
“That’s more like it.” Aether hums, and all the oxygen leaves Dew’s lungs when he pulls out, so excruciatingly slow, and pushes back in so fast that Dew doesn’t even moan; he squeals. Every thrust after is the same, a lazy pull out and a forceful push in.
He’s helpless to play pillow princess and take it, letting his body jolt with every thrust in as unwitting noises leave his lips, “Oh, fuck.”
Aether peppers his face with soft kisses, not once losing his rhythm. He’s hardly making a sound aside from the praises he murmurs against Dew’s ear, and it’s driving him absolutely wild how unaffected Aether can act. “You want me to touch you, huh? Make you feel even better?”
He chokes out a please, locking eyes with his lover and pleading with them, begging for more. Aether, ever the service top, obliges, and savors the way Dew cries out when he flicks a finger over his nipple. His other hand finds its way between them, massaging slow and gentle circles against Dew’s clit.
“Can you play with your little tits for me? Be a good girl?”
It zings through Dew’s whole body. He bows off the bed and Aether finally groans when Dew clenches around him. He cums hard; eyes rolling back and the most sinful sounds coming out of his little mouth, thighs quaking around Aether. The torturous thrusts stop as he recovers, heaving breaths in and out while his mind comes back to him. Partially, at least.
“Kiss me, kiss me,” he whimpers, voice thick with the threat of tears. Aether smiles and dips to kiss him, sliding his tongue across his soft lips before slipping it in for a dirty kiss. He squirms, shifting his hips and Aether realizes he trying to fuck himself on his cock. He moans into Dew’s mouth, slowly grinding back and forth.
“Flip— flip me over, keep go—”
He’s pressed face first into his nest of pillows before he can even process it, Aether draped over his back. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He mumbles.
Dew tries to nod, but ends up making a little mewling noise of agreement when he recognizes he can’t nod with his head shoved into the sheets. Aether sits up straight again and doesn’t hesitate to fuck Dew senseless the second he’s ready. He drools into the pillow he’s on, broken little sounds muffled by the plush surface. “Do you think you can cum again?” Aether growls, clearly losing his composure, but Dew is just fine with that.
He doesn’t bother trying to answer. He doesn’t even think he’s capable of it, his tongue only seems to want to form the words Daddy and please.
“Look at you,” the quintessence ghoul glides a hand on the soft surface of Dew’s arched back, gently letting more magick soothe the overstimulation; just enough to ebb away the pain, Dew still can’t form a sentence from how good he feels. “You wanted me to rough you up, but now… being such a sweet boy for me.”
Dew whimpers, and a gentle hand comes down to brush his hair over his shoulder, so Aether can see his face. “My good boy,” he leans down, holding the back of Dew’s neck, and presses a kiss to his cheek.
He breaks at that, sobbing and moaning into the pillow at the sheer softness of it all, how Aether’s been treating him this whole time. Dew is a mess, drooling and crying into the hotel pillow as Aether fucks him stupid— literally.
“Gonna cum inside you, is that okay, baby boy?” Aether groans, folding over Dew’s back, pressed up as close as he can be. Dew’s moans answer for him, a litany of please’s garbled together with whimpers of pleasure. Aether reaches around him to flick at his clit, so gently compared to his thrusts.
He’s sensitive, overworked, and that’s all it takes for him to cum a second time, shuddering in Aether’s arms. The quintessence ghoul lets out a punched moan and Dew feels his release before Aether says anything, hot and deep inside him. His eyes roll back into his head; he can’t stop cumming, adrift in a sea of overwhelming emotions and sensations.
Dew doesn’t realize how hard he’s sobbing.
Aether pulls him, slowly, into his lap, arms wrapped around Dew’s middle. Even then, his breathing doesn’t even out for another minute and a half. Dewdrop whines. “Shh,” Aether coos in his ear, “let it happen. You know I’ll take care of you.”
He does know, and the affirmation is enough to slow him down. Keep him calm. He babbles incoherently, still stuck in the chemical soup that Aether has turned his mind into, tears streaming down his cheeks. Aether’s talking to him, he thinks, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He shrieks like he’s been stabbed when Aether tries to stand, and scrambles to keep a tight hold on him.
“Hey, it’s okay. Can you look at me, Dew?” He murmurs, soft and safe and warm. He listens, pulling himself away just enough to look into Aether’s glowing eyes. “We’ve gotta clean up, okay? I know you want to sleep— yeah, I know— but I’ve got to take care of you. Can you be my good boy for a few more minutes?”
Dew bites his lip. He does just want to sleep, but the slick and cum between his thighs is starting to feel less arousing and more disgusting by the second. “Okay,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around Aether’s neck as he prepares to carry Dew off to the hotel bathroom.
The counter is cold when he’s placed down on it, and Aether comments that the yelp that he lets out is cute. He’s coming back to himself, but not enough to pretend to be angry about that. Instead he purrs, presses his face into Aether’s hand. “You are cute. Adorable, even.”
“Shut up,” Dew answers, but he’s still purring and has the dopiest little grin on his face. Aether kisses his face, a distraction from the washcloth soaked with warm water that Dewdrop will inevitably bitch about. He does the second it hits his skin, but Aether continues anyway, kissing Dew’s pink cheeks and cleaning the filth from his body.
He smiles gratefully when Aether pulls his boxers and pajamas on for him, well aware that if he even tried to stand on his own two legs he’d topple over like a newborn deer.
Dew mumbles something soft, too quiet for Aether to hear, and he cocks an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“I love you,” he says, hushed like it’s a secret, but the quintessence ghoul lights up anyway. He even starts purring— Dew’s surprised he wasn’t already.
Aether knocks their horns together, “I love you, too.”
They sit like that for longer than they should, purring at each other and smiling like fools. The air is thick with their post-sex scents; fresh cinnamon rolls from Dew mingled with Aether’s sweet, almost floral musky scent. It’s a drug for both of them.
Dew wraps his legs around Aether’s middle, finally giving him a sign that they should leave and get some sleep. His face rests comfortably in Aether’s chest as he carries him back to the hotel bed, “How do you wanna sleep?”
“Like this,” Dew mumbles, nuzzling his cheek against the bare skin. Aether sighs.
They end up with Dew practically on top of him, using that soft chest as a pillow— exactly like he planned. Aether’s hand fusses with Dew’s hair, scratching at his scalp and drawing out that quiet little purr again. “You comfy?” Aether whispers into his hair.
Dew hums, half asleep already. “Goodnight, Aether.”
“Goodnight, love.”