Chapter 19
Rowan
The sounds Milo was making under his touch were the most addictive Rowan had ever heard in his life. Choked-off, desperate little moans and mewls that made him feel like the most powerful person to walk the planet.
Because he was the one drawing them out. His touch made Milo writhe and his kiss made Milo’s heart thunder against his chest.
He’d slept with people before, but nothing had ever felt like Milo.
Pliant and defiant at the same time.
He was letting Rowan touch him, kiss him, wreck him, but he was also pushing back, shoving himself into Rowan’s lap, locking him in with arms around his neck as if to show him who was really in control.
He bared his neck in submission, but he also gripped Rowan’s hair and pushed his head into the crook of it with ease. He opened his mouth to allow Rowan’s tongue in, but he bit him and sucked on him until Rowan was sure he’d drain him of all life force if left unchecked.
Milo was a contradiction in sex like he was in everything else, and Rowan realized there was something magical about it. Something he had been craving without ever knowing it before. And something he was quickly growing addicted to as they fell into it again.
“Milo,” he groaned when Milo shifted in his lap, brushing their hard cocks together and making them both shudder with how intense it all felt.
“Hm?” Milo asked, but there was nothing in Rowan’s brain except Milo’s hands wandering beneath his clothes, his teeth catching skin, and his thin body caged in Rowan’s arms. He called out to him because that was the only thing he could say.
His name.
Over and over again like a prayer. Milo, Milo, Milo…
“Let me…?” Rowan said, not even knowing what he was asking for. He just needed more than what he was feeling through wrinkled clothes. He tugged at the shirt Milo was wearing, realizing the tips of his fingers were clawed and leaving tiny, pinprick holes in the soft cotton.
“Anything,” Milo said, scrambling off his lap and doing an impressively quick job of getting all of his clothes off, then standing in front of Rowan like an offering.
Bare, pale skin, the cool blue veins running under his skin like a map of places Rowan wanted. Of places Rowan needed. To touch and kiss and keep safe. And own. Jesus but he felt feral with the need for it.
He gripped Milo’s narrow hips, still sitting down in front of him.
He licked his lips and pulled him closer, claws digging into the flesh of Milo’s ass.
There wasn’t much to grip there, but what he could feel was soft and supple and enticing, so he tightened his grip a bit more, testing how much of it Milo would allow.
He went willingly.
For all that he was combative and contrary in every way, he allowed Rowan to move him without complaint.
Milo’s hard cock aligned with the tip of Rowan’s nose, and he shoved his face into the crook of his hip, inhaling him like a madman. He licked a stripe there, matting the platinum hair against his skin before biting his hip bone.
“Ow!” Milo reached out to grip his hair again, pulling it to make Rowan look up into his eyes.
“There you are,” Rowan said as those slit-pupiled eyes stared back at him, crystalline blue.
Scales rushed down Milo’s neck and chest, covering all available skin. The fingers in his hair tightened and Rowan could feel the sharp tips of Milo’s claws against his scalp.
“It’s working!” Milo said, running one hand down his chest and over his scales. “More! Please, I want to see!”
Rowan stared at him, at those restless hands touching where he wanted to touch, at that body stretched out before him, and he nodded. Obedient. Powerless. Desperate to please as if his existence depended on it.
He dove in without a moment’s hesitation, swallowing Milo whole. Hard cock hit the back of his throat, his nose brushed against Milo’s hips, and he surrendered.
He didn’t want to think anymore.
He didn’t want to be pragmatic or careful or controlled.
He just wanted to give this to Milo and get whatever Milo wanted to give in return. He could let go of the reins and just feel for a moment because there was no other option.
Milo’s hand in his hair pulled his head forward, then pushed it back.
And Rowan went willingly. Relaxed his throat to take him in, closed his eyes to shut the world off, anchored himself with his hands on Milo’s hips and ass and let go.
His own pleasure was a distant hum in the back of his mind, the heaviness of his erection constricted in his pants a dull ache he could easily ignore if he focused on how Milo felt in his mouth.
How he smelled. What he sounded like.
Rowan’s world shrank to just the two of them in the middle of his living room. His mind went hazy and the sounds grew distant.
Milo was thrusting into his mouth with abandon, bruising his throat and dripping down it, and Rowan swallowed it all, greedy and possessive over each little drop like it was life-sustaining.
“Fuck,” Milo called from above him, body hunching, bowing over Rowan’s head, casting shadows over his closed lids. “Fuck, Ro…”
Ro.
Oh, he liked that.
He hummed in pleasure and Milo keened, every muscle in his body spasming.
“Fuck, I’m gonna…” Milo moaned, choking the end of the sentence with a soft cry as his body locked, his hips fucking into Rowan’s mouth one more time before he nearly screamed and came down Rowan’s throat.
Rowan swallowed, hungry for the taste of him. He held Milo by the hips and sucked him through the aftershocks, refusing to let go even when Milo’s moans turned to whimpers of oversensitivity.
“Rowan!” Milo called, and a flash of something entered Rowan’s field of vision. He opened his eyes and the sight of Milo’s wings spread before him tipped him over the edge too without him even touching his own cock.
He growled through his release, staring at Milo like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Because…he was.
Translucent wings.
Completely see through. Vulnerable and fragile like glass. But when the light hit them just right, Rowan realized they weren’t just translucent. They were like stained glass, shades of blue and silver playing over the see-through canvas. Like a cathedral Rowan should worship at.
Erratic and out of control, those wings flapped around them, throwing Milo off balance until Rowan steadied him once again.
“IT WORKED!” Milo said, soft cock slipping completely from Rowan’s lips as he twisted and turned to see himself for the first time. “I have wings!”
“You do!” Rowan said, voice completely ruined by Milo’s cock. His throat burned and ached but he didn’t care at all.
He just stared. In awe and wonder, because he had never seen anything like it before.
“D’ya like ’em?” Milo asked, and Rowan could hear the tiny hint of vulnerability in that question all over again.
“They’re stunning,” he said, and Milo preened like a bird, strutting around and trying to get the wings to behave like he wanted them to. He managed a few slightly more controlled flaps before they knocked one of the books off of Rowan’s desk and he froze.
“It’s okay,” Rowan said softly. “It’s just a book.”
“Yeah, but it could have been a plant,” Milo said. “I don’t want to hurt your hoard.”
“You won’t.” Rowan’s heart ached at the consideration Milo was showing to his most precious things. “But caring for my hoard like that is very dragon-like.”
“I am a dragon!” Milo said, twirling carefully on the spot, his wings catching the light and shimmering, painting iridescent abstracts all over Rowan’s floors.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Rowan whispered, tracing the patterns on hardwood.
“Is that bad?”
“Not necessarily. It just means we might have been looking in the wrong places.”
He stood up and walked to his room, pulling out a book that he took out so rarely it had collected a truly impressive amount of dust. He blew it off then walked back to Milo and showed him the cover.
Rare Dragon Breeds
“You think I’m rare?” Milo asked.
“I think it’s worth a look. I’ve been among dragons all my life, and I have never seen wings like yours before. I’m not saying I’m an expert, but I think it’s a sign of something, so…doesn’t hurt to expand the search.”
“Should I…?” Milo pointed to his clothes strewn around the room, and then to Rowan, fully dressed with a wet patch on his pants.
“I don’t mind.” Rowan hoped it came out casual instead of as a desperate plea for Milo to just stay naked forever so he could stare. To keep the remnants of what they had done on their bodies so Rowan could bask.
It was very dragon, and Rowan worried that Milo might not understand.
“Okay,” Milo said, curling up next to Rowan, still naked, one wing resting against Rowan’s back, and Rowan could only be in awe of him.
He cracked the book open and angled it so Milo could see too.
Page by page, they went through it, but as the book came to an end, Milo’s wings sagged, shrank, before completely pulling back and disappearing. The scales faded too. Then his claws. And finally his eyes turned back to that pale blue Rowan had first seen when he was chained to the tree.
“No me,” Milo said, and Rowan could hear his disappointment.
“Not in this book, no,” Rowan said. “But there are more we can look into now that we have more of an idea.”
“And you’ll keep fucking me in the meantime?” Milo asked. “For science?”
“Apparently.” Rowan shook his head. “For science.”
“I love science!”
Notes:
Fuck me for science sticker? No one again? You could put it on your bumper? No? Spoilsports!