queimar | saltburnt ► inbox

[ oh my fucking g— ]

That wasn't meant for you

It's mine now.

what kind of game?
better make it interesting or i'll make you think you are a cockroach for a day🪳

I don't think cockroaches could set your pretty hair on fire, Yeko. I propose another hunt. You catch me this time.

[ fuck, okay. that’s — kind of more than he bargained for, even though it’s very da-lua, from what little bob knows about him. but dragons are always greedy in the stories, aren’t they? ]

a video
okay

[ in time, from his pov: a short clip of his fingers dragging through the cum on his chest, along the path of the short, dark hair that trails down his toned stomach. bob looses a breathy sound as he takes his flushed cock in hand again, so soon after the last time and the time before that. a hitch of his hips, despite the pleasure-pain. and still his hand slips lower, between the splay of his thighs.

— and that’s all. ]

[ And it's exactly what he asked for — what he demanded, because he's rarely ever polite about anything. He just manages to remain ambiguous at best, manages to make it tempting to those who have a higher tolerance than the bare minimum. And Da-Lua really is the kind of creature that people can only tolerate. At best. ]

Good. When was the last time you felt the back of someone's throat?

[ and bob is, perhaps, overly tolerant. accustomed to taking whatever he’s given, from the bare minimum to too fucking much, right up until he snaps.

but he is getting something out of this, with that spare praise skittering down his spine. ]

around about when you got here

[ tried it after the commune, with his powers back in play. ]

went a little too far

Tell me. I'll give you something when you do.

[ bob hasn’t told anyone what happened that day, despite aching to do so. still, he would bet against da-lua viewing this the same way as anyone else in this life.

and so, ]

did you go to the pound?
i took out like
everyone there

[ nice and easy, except for the guy whose arm definitely won’t work like it used to. ]

i wanted to pull my friend out of a fight, and he wanted me pretty bad after
kept telling me he could take more
but he’s not like us
i pushed him until he was a total wreck

[ and maybe it made him unspeakably turned on then and now, a thread pulled taut through the nausea and self-recrimination. maybe it felt like bucky throwing a punch with the full force of his superior strength, and bob catching it with the ease of a low ball. evidence of the change in him. no longer the boy in the gutter. the man at the top. ]

[ He decides then, that Bob isn't some kind of engineered god among humans. That he's a dragon that never got to learn what he was meant to be, how he was meant to be. Even a beastly pet like Da-Lua has rebellion that burns under all those restraints. Maybe this one man's skin doesn't have fire underneath, but magma; slow, hidden and waiting to erupt. Who is Da-Lua to deny him the favor? ]

You liked it, didn't you. It's what you think of when you jerk off. What makes you come like nothing else.

[ the answer he expected. the answer he wanted. a static shock, fizzy at his fingertips. ]

so what if it is

That's a great question, Bob. What does it say about us?

[ There's no universe where they are the same. Just don't tell Da-Lua's ego. ]

I think it says we deserve more. We've earned it. It's their turn to earn us.

[ it’s val, calling him perfect. a god. meant for more. in opposition to the people here, who think he’s either a fuck-up or a good little hero.

nothing fits quite right, all hand-me-downs. ]

how’s that work
you boss everyone around?