Work Text:
“I’m pretty sure it should be right here...?”
Mumbling to herself, Citlali rummages through her cupboard. Finding nothing, she searches her work desk, followed by her kitchen counter. The tonic is nowhere in sight. “Where did I put it...I’m not senile yet, am I?”
Who had the nerve, the GALL, to take the tonic she'd worked so hard to make? And why... Why would anyone take THAT out of all the precious relics in her house? Sure, it was made with preciously rare ingredients - but it wasn't worth enough to warrant stealing, okay! Did her thief even know what it was for?!
Oh Wayobs. Take her now.
Which gargantuan, foolish idiot dared to steal from Granny Itzili’s house in broad daylight, anyway? Did they think she was an easy target?! Didn't they know she wasn't some vulnerable elderly? Finding the culprit who broke into her sacred, private, state-of-the-art guarded crib was child's play for her! Ha! Just wait, you rascals! This old girl is going to catch you red-handed!
With a flick of her spell, Citlali tracks the lingering traces of the individuals lingering in her house. However…
Huh? How come the only people she could feel were the usual subjects? Did that mean one of her neighbors or acquaintances was the one who took her.. her...
THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE. FUUUUuCK.
This was worse than bad. She must retrieve it as soon as possible! Whether they took it by mistake or if they were fully aware of its contents, neither spelled good news for her.
Okay. Okay.
Calm down first.
Figuring out who took it should be the utmost priority first.
And then, she'd beat them to a squishy pulp before getting the tonic back.
Think, old girl, think... When was the last time she saw it again? She was almost positive she saw it last before she and Ororon stopped by the Speaker's Chambers. And then?
Wait.
Oh.
……….
“But, Granny, do I really need all of this?”
Clicking her tongue in disapproval, Citlali shoved bottles of potions and talismans into Ororon's travel bag. Mavuika had requested her silly grandson prolong his stay at the Stadium a little longer, for any post-battle discussions and to further monitor the outcome of The Plan and whatnot. Ha. Joined a Night War once and he no longer needed his granny’s concern, did he? Impertinent little sapling!
“Just because you have an ancient name, doesn’t mean your body is magically cured of all your ailments, you brat!” Citlali swiped up all the bottles on the counter, packing them tightly into the already bursting luggage. She ignored Ororon mumbling about overwatering the plants and kindly spared him another whack to the head. “Anyway. It’s always nice to be prepared! Be sure to drink these potions every morning, okay? You don’t want to trouble the Archon if you get sick, right?”
………
Did she...
No way.
Oh shit.
Citlali bolts out the door like a frenzied banshee. Ignoring the strange looks from her tribespeople, she sprinted at full speed towards the Stadium. It'd been 5 days since she visited her stupid grandson, surely there was still a chance he hadn't drank from that particular bottle? If he had, surely someone would have alerted her already?
Out of all people, why did it have to be Ororon, the last person who absolutely shouldn't drink it?!
Having a more fragile soul than anyone, Ororon was especially, easily affected by his surroundings. During his growth, it had led him to develop a peculiar physical body, with several traits mimicking the physiological heat cycle of their tribe’s saurians.
With a body like that, what the fuck was going to happen if he drank Citlali’s Special Tingly-Tightly, Snuggly Warm Pussy, Menopause-go-away! tonic, bursting full of ingredients to help with ovulation, specifically concocted to boost one’s youthful vitality?
It was even worse than feeding him over-the-counter, commercially available aphrodisiacs!
……….
Although the Abyss has been temporarily pushed back, there were still numerous things in dire condition. Not to mention how the high number of casualties had stretched their personnel thin, making the reconstruction effort proceed at a snail's pace even with the help of their newfound Fatui allies.
As one of 6 heroes, the Pyro Archon asked Ororon to be present at the meetings to boost morale. His familiarity with the Fatui and their operations likely also contributed to her request; Ororon could help relay information to both parties. The councils were still rather wary of approaching them directly.
He can handle that much, at least.
It wasn't a hard or strenuous job, but somehow, he's been feeling a bit drained lately.
He's felt strangely warm since the morning. Being in the Speaker Chamber, so close to the fire, surrounded by so many, probably doesn’t help a bit. He knows it’s selfish of him to think such thoughts, but he can never feel at ease staying in this place.
He misses his garden. He misses not having to bump into someone every step he takes. He misses the comfortable quiet and absence of stares that follow him wherever he goes.
“Um... are you okay?”
A small voice interrupts his wandering thoughts. It takes him a long minute to place the girl's face to her name. For once, Ororon is glad for the interruption. He doesn't want to make a scene in public and make trouble for everyone, lest it reach Granny's ears.
Kachina looks up at him with concerns clear in her eyes. Her face pinches in nervousness before settling into something more determined. “You don’t look well. Is there something wrong? Are you sick?”
“Ah. I’m...”
Ororon's shoulders slump. He's even making others worry about him. He wants to refute Kachina's concern and reassure her that nothing is wrong, but something definitely is. His throat is too dry, his senses too sharp, as if every sound and smell was amplified to 11 until it overwhelmed all his thoughts. Is he getting sick? No way. He's been drinking Granny’s medicine every day without skipping a single dosage.
The answer hits him like one of Granny's sandals to the head when he feels a horrifyingly familiar sensation between his legs. Ororon's cunt throbs with heat, a pulse of neediness, as if begging to be filled. His face pales. How did he fail to notice he was at the onset of his heat? But, how? He's been faithfully using his suppressants. He didn't forget a single dosage, even when he was trailing the Fatui. There shouldn't be any reason for them to stop working!
“Is there a problem?”
The familiar voice nearly makes Kachina jump out of her skin. Any other time, Ororon would sense that overwhelming presence right away. The Captain's aura is instantly reassuring, relieving some of the tightness of Ororon's shoulders.
“Captain.” Ororon greets. Politely glancing up to meet the Harbinger’s pitch-black mask, he tries to keep his distress from showing on his face.
Silently, the Captain lifts his hand to hold it against Ororon’s forehead. The Captain’s hands are always cold, lacking in body heat. In a normal situation, it would feel soothing, yet now, it only helps to make Ororon’s body heat burn even more.
The Captain lets his hand linger for a moment. Its retreat leaves Ororon with a small sense of loss. The temptation to lean against Capitano's sturdy frame and inhale the scent of flint and steel that he's come to associate with the Harbinger almost, almost, wins out against reason.
Ah, this is bad.
Ororon squirms as a gush of slick trails down his thigh. Why did his heat start early? Should he flee to his room and ride it out? But, leaving in the middle of the Archon's meeting is incredibly disrespectful to the others. Then...he should stay. Surely he can hold out a while longer. Hopefully, no one will notice his embarrassing condition until he can get himself in order.
“You have a fever,” Capitano remarks, scrutinizing Ororon’s face with a razor-sharp focus. “If you feel unwell you should rest instead of forcing yourself to attend.”
“I’m ...fine.” Mortified, his body reacts to the low timber of the Captain's voice. His proximity, while reassuring, is also having the worst effect on him. It's not surprising. Ororon has long since been aware his attraction to the Harbinger wasn't limited to just respectful admiration. However, to have his shameful want manifest physically, and in such a public place nonetheless, makes Ororon fervently wish he could disappear on the spot.
“Huuuhh?? Why does it smell like bitch in here?!”
The mean-spirited shrill voice immediately grabs everyone’s attention with disapproval and no small amounts of annoyance. Kinich’s saurian companion had returned and, Ororon's face paled in horror, he had no plans to keep Ororon's condition to himself.
Ajaw's sunglasses lift in mocking awe. “Ha? Are you trying to breed animals? Could you puny creatures be so desperate to recover your population numbers, or are you just that pent up? Don't tell us you hired a breeding bitch to entertain you during meetings? Hahaha - hey!"
“I apologize. I forgot to extend his timeout.” Ignoring Ajaw's screams and curses, Kinichi quickly stuffs him away.
“That Ajaw is truly...” Even the soft-spoken Kachina is at a loss for good things to say. “He always has a potty mouth but this time it’s just too much! What is he even talking about?!”
Should Ororon be glad no one ever takes Ajaw’s words seriously? Even so, it’s only time before the others notice his condition. From the way the slick has started to seep down his pants, he’s probably not going to be able to hide it for much longer. He really should go back and lock himself in his room before his heat gets even worse.
“I think I will go back early.” He'll make his excuses to the Archon and scurry away while it's still possible.
“A-are you sure you can go back by yourself? You don't look well.” Kachina's eyes widened in concern. She positions herself in front of him as if preparing to break his fall with her tiny body in case he can't make it. He must look truly bad then.
“I’m fine.” Not really. But what else is he supposed to tell her? It’s too mortifying.
“Ah, no - you don’t have to -”
The door to the chamber opens to a scout and his tepetelisaurus partner, likely on their way back to submit another report. However, instead of the usual brief exchange, the scout’s tepetelisaurus quickly grows agitated, clearly able to smell the pheromones in the air. Ignoring his partner’s attempt to calm him down, the frenzied saurian zeroes in on Ororon and lunges in his direction with a howl.
Faster than anyone else can react, a dark blur moves between the tepetelisaurus and Ororon. The Captain incapacitates the animal with minimal, non-lethal effort. When the saurian falls on its back with a whimper, everyone can see its engorged genitalia, its intent for lunging at Ororon quite clear.
“Concha!” The scout quickly kneels beside the fainted saurian. “Py-pyro Archon, please forgive him. He's never done this to anyone before! You-you too uhh.. what’s your name again…? A-anyway! I’m very sorry! I don’t know why he acted like that!”
Ororon dumbly nods at the man, keeping his mouth shut. He knows it's not the saurian's fault.
Capitano remains standing beside him. Ororon won't insult his intelligence. Surely the man has been able to piece Ajaw's rant and this recent happening together to land at a conclusion.
Due to the commotion, people outside the chambers have begun to crowd around the entrance to try to catch a glimpse of the action. Some of them are accompanied by their saurians companions who, as they grow closer, also begin to react to the strong pheromones Ororon is giving off.
“Get them out and close the door,” Capitano gruffly orders, gesturing at the scout and his fainted saurian. After the two are escorted outside, everyone’s attention instantly shifts to Ororon. They, too, are beginning to understand what's happening.
“I’m...I’m sorry.. I’ll go back to my room.” Ororon is unable to meet anyone's stare. His ears wilt inside his hood.
“And how exactly do you plan to make it safely?” Capitano keeps him in place with one hand holding Ororon by his waist. "You'll have to walk past everyone and their saurian partners outside to reach your accommodations.”
“I’m good at stealth.” Oh Archons, Capitano’s hand pressing against him is making the heat between his legs even worse. Ororon has to squeeze his thighs together to keep his legs from trembling.
“Not in your current condition, no.” Capitano refuses to let him go, oblivious to the effect his presence is having on Ororon’s body. “And even if you manage to make it back, how can you be sure no one will try to break into your room while you're in such a vulnerable condition?”
“Should I call Citlali here?” Mavuika interjects. “I remember she mentioned your.. ah.. special physique. She might have a cure ready.”
“She’s unlikely to be home,” Kinich says. “When I made a delivery to Mitaclan village yesterday, they told me she was traveling to Mirror Wall mountains with some apprentices to pick medicinal herbs. I doubt she'd be able to return that fast.”
Ororon is mortified. What is he doing here? Instead of being useful, he's making everyone worry about him. Again. He wants to reassure them that he’s fine and can handle himself - but it would be a lie. All he can do is use every last drop of will to stand straight and keep a semblance of coherency while every nerve in his body is screaming at him to fulfill the growing desire waiting to burst out.
“I’ll take him to our camp,” Capitano says. He doesn't leave any room for doubts. “The saurians know to avoid our camp. He can pass his heat there without any disruption.”
Without waiting for anyone’s reply, the harbinger takes off his coat to wrap around Ororon. Enveloping Ororon in his smell, he lifts him into his arms.
Choking from overstimulation, the heady scent of the older man making his head swim, Ororon has no choice but to hold onto the Captain’s neck to steady himself. Gone is all his self-restraint and composure as he buries his face on Capitano’s shoulder. He sucks in a deep breath, his senses dwindling more and more.
They're already outside the Stadium before he can notice it. How did the Captain get past all those crowds in such a short time without anyone catching Ororon's troublesome presence? Is it okay for the Captain to leave the meeting just to deliver Ororon to his camp?
Unfortunately, as embarrassing as it is, he currently no longer has enough willpower to do anything but entrust himself to the Harbinger completely.
Held in steady arms, Ororon’s consciousness starts to fade. Between moments of clarity, he hears Capitano’s voice deploying orders, the sounds of the familiar clanking of the barracks. When he comes to, he's lying inside Capitano’s tent, the Harbinger sitting beside him pressing a damp towel against Ororon's flushed face.
When Ororon makes the groggy attempt to sit up, the Captain guides him back down. It takes another minute or so before Ororon realizes he’s no longer wearing his clothes. He's dressed in a loose shirt he recognizes from the fatui supplies. Did Capitano help him change? Did he see how embarrassingly wet he was when he undressed Ororon?
Pressing his thighs together, Ororon's stomach twists at the feeling of them sticking together. He’s not wearing anything aside from the shirt.
“… I apologize,” Capitano says, a little unsure. “Your clothes were soaked. I didn't know what else to do.”
“A-ah...” He wants to tell Capitano it's not him he's upset at. It’s just.. overwhelming. To know that the person you admire most once again has to see you in your most vulnerable, shameful, and ugly state. To see how much of a mess he's been reduced to. Capitano doesn’t know, but Ororon knows; this time around, his heat is worse, and it probably has all to do with his not-so-innocent infatuation with the Harbinger.
Tears well up in Ororon's eyes. Capitano tenses. As if unsure whether to console him or if his touch will only make matters worse, his hand lingers in the air. He draws his hand back.
“I should go,” Capitano says stiffly. “I’ll keep watch outside. If you need anything-“
“No!” Ororon grabs Capitano’s wrist frantically, desperate to remain beside him. “I’m... please stay here. Captain..I- I need..”
He needs to stop crying. He must look so unsightly. It’s been a while since he experienced the full effect of his heat. Usually, Granny’s medicine would take away most of the symptoms, leaving him with just a muted ache and a slight fever. This time, his soul, as if retaliating after being denied for so long, has completely wrecked his ability to reason with himself. He clings to Capitano’s sleeves, something he knows he would otherwise never dare to do, not when he knows how unqualified he is to ask or desire in the first place,
His soul and body want this person. His rationale knows he shouldn't, that he will never amount to anything compared to the person fated to shake the whole world. However, reduced to mere instinct, he is as honest as he can be in his desire. His lust-wracked body trembles as he presses against Capitano’s arm.
Don’t push me away, he thinks desperately, stubbornly holding on and rubbing his paltry chest against the older man. The buttons on the loose shirt begin to come undone, revealing the glow of phlogiston lines pulsating on his torso and his stiff nipples peeking from the askew collar.
“You’re not of sound mind," Capitano says. “I can’t do that to you.”
“Captain.. uh... Please." Ororon's aching cunt feels so empty. His senses are going crazy, amplifying everything beyond what he can tolerate.
Capitano's breath hitches when Ororon lays a hand on his knee. He stiffens when Ororon rubs his chest against the leather seam of his uniform, moaning at the sensation, inhaling more of the Captain's smell.
Breed me. Breed me. Breed me.
Kicking off the blanket covering his legs, Ororon tries to climb Capitano’s lap. He's pinned down quicker than his drowsy mind can comprehend, struggling against the force keeping him from taking what he wants.
His inhibitions are nowhere to be found. Is this how an animal in heat acts? He won't have any dignity left once this passes. His normal self would be horrified to see how he's behaving. Ajaw was right. Ororon is no better than a lustful bitch right now.
Does he not want me? Frustration mounts in him as he futilely tries to push back against Capitano’s hold. Does he not want to help me?
It hurts. His whole body aches. It’s not only his soul that feels incomplete anymore, all of him feels as empty as a cracked vessel. He wants to be filled up, to be complete. He can’t breathe. He wants someone to hold him, embrace him tight, and tell him all will be okay soon. He wants someone to take him, claim him, and mark him from the inside out. It hurts. He wants release so bad...
“Captain...” Ororon doesn’t know what he’s asking for anymore. Looking at the Captain with glassy, unfocused eyes, he pleads, “...help me...”
Capitano holds his gaze. Behind his mask, something complicated brews. He lets go of his hold to stroke Ororon's face. His cool touch is like a balm, a drop of water after a long drought Ororon laps up greedily despite knowing it won’t be enough to sate him.
“I wouldn’t be able to help you with sincerity.” Capitano sighs.
There is a note of defeat in his voice at odds with what Ororon knows him to be. Steady as a pillar, standing firm despite overwhelming odds.
“Please...”
The Harbinger takes a deep breath before easily lifting Ororon to settle him on his lap, supporting the boy’s trembling frame to comfortably lean against his chest.
“I shouldn’t touch you like this," the Captain murmurs against the top of Ororon’s head. He parts Ororon's legs wider, creating an obscene squelch as the slick staining his inner thighs drips down messily.
Unbidden pleas and moans fall from Ororon’s mouth when he feels the touch of Capitano’s fingers against the rim of his cunt. He quivers as the fingers dip into his aching sex, too shallow and yet too much for his fried nerves to handle. The Captain’s fingers move in slow, shallow thrusts, a torturous attempt at consideration. Ororon can no longer bear it and tries to move his hips on his own, sinking down on the fingers filling his aching heat.
“You’re such a handful.” Capitano gives an exasperated sound before he relents and slides his fingers deeper.
Mouth no longer connected to his brain, Ororon is unable to keep up with whatever nonsense he’s spewing to urge Capitano to go deeper, faster, to fill him up more.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. The speck of his consciousness that still knows shame wants to curl up and die from embarrassment. From the guilt of pushing Capitano this far despite his initial reluctance. If the Captain punishes him for his insolent behavior after this, he won't have any objection. He'll deserve it.
Suddenly, a sensation like nothing he's ever felt before hits him hard. Capitano’s fingers accidentally graze a certain spot inside him, making Ororon's mind go white-blank. Noticing the strong reaction, Capitano rubs against the same spot again and is rewarded by Ororon’s violent trembling as he comes with a breathless shout.
And yet, despite coming so hard, the heat doesn't subside. The first orgasm subdues the worst of the frenzied desperation, but Ororon's desire is still far from being satisfied. His spent body squirms in Capitano’s hold, chasing more of that wonderful feeling.
Silently acquiescing, Capitano continues to hold him.
It takes a couple more orgasms before Ororon tires himself out, his heat fully satiated for the time being. He doesn't think he managed to stay conscious through it all, which makes it all the more shameful. When he finally comes to, he finds himself wiped clean and dressed in a fresh set of clothes. His groggy mind slowly tries to piece together what he can recall. He pays for this mistake with a flood of memories of his wanton behavior, many of which would get him disowned and kicked out permanently from the tribe if Granny ever finds out.
The combination of shame, guilt, and anxiety added up with the undercurrent of the remaining heat still buzzing mutely under his skin makes it hard for him to breathe. First and foremost, he should apologize to Capitano, and yet he’s too afraid of having disappointed him to face him.
He doesn’t know how long he's spent wallowing in misery when the Captain finally enters the tent with a box of supplies.
Ororon forces himself to look up to meet him. His greeting sticks to his throat before he can make the attempt to speak. He can’t figure out what kind of expression the Captain is making behind his mask and doesn’t dare to scrutinize him for too long. He remains quiet as Capitano once again sits on the corner of the cot. Setting the supplies on the floor, he checks Ororon’s temperature.
“It hasn’t come down completely," he remarks calmly. The lack of judgment in his voice gives Ororon relief.
“...I’m sorry," Ororon finally manages to say. He keeps his eyes down as he nervously picks on the folds of the blanket.
“It’s not something you have to apologize for.”
“It’s not that. It’s-“
“I know what you mean," the Captain cuts him off firmly. “It was my inadequate handling of the situation as well. There’s nothing for you to feel guilty about.”
“That’s not on you,” Ororon fires back indignantly. He can accept rejection or punishment after what he did, but he cannot accept Capitano imposing the guilt onto himself when it was Ororon who begged him to put his hands on him. “I...It was all me. It wasn’t all because of the heat’s fault. It was my fault to begin with. I shouldn’t.. I shouldn’t like you so much.”
He doesn’t realize he's crying again until Capitano sweeps the tears off his ruddy cheeks. When did Ororon ever cry this much? Can he attribute it to the heat affecting his emotions? He doesn't care if it’s out of pity when the Captain takes him into his arms, letting Ororon soil his uniform with tears and snot while patiently waiting for the crying to subside.
“…You’re still confused," the Captain starts after a period of hesitation.
“I’m- not,” Ororon says between sobs. “I’m sorry- I... I thought...”
Capitano rubs his back as sudden hiccups send him coughing until he’s out of breath.
“It’s not your fault.” Capitano asserts once more as he puts a cup of warm water against Ororon’s lips. He feeds it to him in slow gradations until the coughing stops, as if he were a baby bird taking its first sips.
“It is.” Now that it's come to this, what difference does it make for him to come clean and confess? He's ruined everything already, he’s ready to accept the consequences. “I thought as long as no one knew, it wouldn't trouble anyone. That’s why I... I should have...”
“Should have what?”
He thought as long as it didn’t interfere with their mission, it would be fine to silently cherish these feelings. Even though he knew these feelings were impossible, he let himself harbor affection towards the older man. He never imagined his silent yearning would culminate in pushing the Captain to do something he would regret.
“I should have given up,” Ororon admits weakly. “If I knew my feelings would burden you and cause you trouble, I should've stopped myself.”
“If you didn't have feelings for me and your heat inexplicably came," Capitano fingers brush through Ororon's messy hair, inexplicably gentle as his touch settles behind his ear, stroking circles below the sensitive cartilage. “How do you think it would go?”
“….eh?”
“Do you think you’d ask someone else to help you through your heat?
Was it his imagination, or did the Captain sound irritated at his own suggestion?
“Ma…maybe?” Would he even be as desperate as he was with Capitano though? No. No, he wouldn’t. In the first place, his heat only amplified his yearning for the older man. Ororon couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else to give himself to during such a vulnerable state. And so he quickly corrects himself. “No. No, I wouldn't ask anyone.”
“That’s good.” Capitano continues to scratch his ears.
The stimulation has Ororon weak on the knees. Should he tell him to stop? Does he want Capitano to stop? Somehow, his touch doesn’t feel entirely innocent.
“Captain..?” A twinge of nervousness flickers inside Ororon's chest. He tries and fails to smother it, but the gentle rubs on his ears only exuberate it.
“You’re still too young and inexperienced. You shouldn't feel responsible for a situation outside of your control, nor attribute it to your fault.” It’s not just his delusions. Capitano’s voice is different from his usual calm, authoritative tone. There’s something else, something that excites and scares Ororon both.
“I’m an adult," he retorts weakly, letting the Captain lead him to rest his head on his broad chest, listening to the weak beat of a deteriorating heart.
“I must apologize to you.” Capitano halts on an awkward silence before resuming, “You’re a sharp one. I was under the impression you'd long noticed, and out of consideration for my dignity, had chosen to silently ignore it."
Ororon's head spins. “I don’t…understand.”
“Yes. I just realized it now.” The Captain lets out a short self-deprecating chuckle. “I told myself I shouldn’t sully you with my desire. And yet when you desperately needed my help, I couldn’t assist you without extricating myself from my shameful feelings.”
Ororon felt as if he'd been hit by a mountain. A whole valley even. “… I’m sorry, do you mean..."
Is the Captain trying to say he has feelings for him?!
Never in a million years did the idea ever cross Ororon's mind. He might as well be dreaming, surely it's not possible. Should he check the Harbinger hadn't been replaced by a skin-walker? No, that's stupid. As if a skin-walker could defeat the Captain.
But, how, why?
How did he not notice?!
Did his inexperience with anything and all romance blind him, or was it his preconception clouding his ability to read the Captain's soul? How was he supposed to know? And, what is he supposed to do now? He should have read more of Granny's contraband novels!
“Stop apologizing.” Chiding him without any heat, Capitano's hand on Ororon’s hair stops, settling on his nape like a cradle.
Spurred by the gesture as well as Capitano’s confession, Ororon reaches to touch Capitano’s mask before he loses his sudden surge of bravery. Gently, he presses his lips on the cold metal frame. The Harbinger freezes, every muscle going stiff. Like ice thawing in the spring, he recovers his bearings, the weight of his gaze staring intently at Ororon as if trying to figure out a puzzle.
“I want to kiss you,” Ororon sheepishly admits.
He can’t even blame his heat for his audacious request. Ororon is well of mind and conscious of what he wants.
“One moment you’re apologizing and not even a minute later you're asking for the most ridiculous of things.” The Captain sounds fondly exasperated. “Do you know what you’re asking for? It’s not a pretty sight.”
Ororon nods. He knows whether with or without a curse, he yearns for the radiance of Capitano’s soul. Even if his body is marred by otherworldly corrosion, it isn't enough to hide all the qualities in him Ororon adores and reveres.
Setting his mask aside, Capitano looks at him bare-faced for the first time. Ororon smiles at him. This time, when Ororon lands a clumsy kiss against his mouth, Capitano is no longer stunned, nor does he reject him. His cold lips move sweetly against Ororon's, patiently showing him how to prolong the kiss.
“You should rest more,” Capitano says after. “Finish all your soup and sleep a little bit longer. You need to regain your energy.”
“Are you leaving?” Ororon feels a twinge of disappointment. His heat is no longer an all consuming wildfire that turns him into an animal driven by lust, but he knows it will flare up again. Now that he knows his feelings are returned, he's no longer willing to spend it alone.
Capitano squeezes his hand in assurance, rubbing circles against his knuckles. “I’ll stay if you want me to. But what happened last time, I’d rather not repeat.”
He tries not to feel hurt by Capitano’s declaration. “Why?”
“It’s not about the intercourse,” Capitano clarifies, noticing Ororon's forlorn expression. “You were not in any state to consent. I’d.. rather not take advantage of your desperation to sate my desires.”
Oh, it’s like that. Ororon releases the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. However, he also doesn’t understand Capitano’s logic.
“But.. if we both agree to it beforehand?”
“The situation can still get out of hand. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I just... what if I want you to be rough and ruin me thoroughly?”
Capitano looks at him weirdly. “Where did you learn to say those things?”
Granny’s secret stash of novels of course. But that’s also how he truly feels.
“I love you, Captain," he confesses instead. His entire face and neck heat up with the weight of saying his feelings out loud. “If it’s with you... anything, I can take it.”
Capitano doesn't answer him, but neither does he pull away. His stoic, unmoving presence beside him feels almost like an acceptance of Ororon's feelings, yet also like a refusal to reach out first. His presence is patient, waiting.
Then...
“Then.. if I can keep my mind clear, is it okay if I ask you to take my first time?”
Upon hearing Ororon's request, Capitano's scarred face stiffens. Without the mask, Ororon can see the older man’s jaw clench in resistance, and yet, the blue of his eyes is almost swallowed by the dark star-shaped pupil, unable to hide his desire. It sends a thrill down Ororon's back, his breath hitching.
“I fear you might regret your choice,” Capitano says roughly. “Giving your first time to me ...it is not a wise thing to do.”
No one's ever praised Ororon for being wise, nor has ever claimed to be. He doesn't mind being a fool, if being foolish means following his heart. He's been called stubborn plenty of times, and that stubbornness will serve him now. Ororon won't let go of him now, not when he knows he has a chance.
“Only you.” In a fit of neediness, he slinks his arms around Capitano’s broad chest, burying his face in his scent. “You're the only one I've ever wanted, not anyone else. Never anyone else. Please, Captain.”
The thrum of low warmth heats up, signaling the next phase of his heat. This time, Ororon is determined to stay in control and prove to Capitano he knows what he wants.
“Lay down.” The harbinger sheds his armor, revealing his scar-mangled body as he moves on top of Ororon. Completely eclipsed by Capitano’s bulk, Ororon feels like he’s drowning. He traced the dark lines of scars on the Captain’s body with hitched breath as the older man moved between his legs, gently parted his thighs and caressed the faded bruises that he left earlier with a complicated expression.
“Are you scared?” The Harbinger asked, it felt more like a question directed to both of them instead of only to him.
“A bit.” He answered honestly. The Captain stilled at his answer and looked at him as if he expected it to be a cue for him to stop. “Ah, not because of you, Captain. I’m just..”
“Just tell me.” The Captain reached out to stroke his ear, his calloused hand sending him another wave of want he didn’t know he could have. “If I can make it easier for you..”
“I was thinking about granny.” Capitano’s hand stilled, clearly not expecting the answer. “She’d probably beat my ass if she knew I asked you to bed me.”
“…I fear.. it’s not a matter that I can help you with.”
Unsurprisingly, Ororon found Capitano's hesitation endearing. He took the hand stroking his head and placed his lips on the scale-like rot across Capitano's knuckles, feeling emboldened by the hitched breath his touch provoked an lightly nibbled on the older man’s fingers.
"It’s alright" He looked up with a smile. “You will help me with other things, right?”
……
“TWO DAYS? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT HAPPENED TWO DAYS AGO? WHY DID NO ONE INFORMED ME?? MAVUIKA?!”
“Well..” Mavuika glanced helplessly at the two who stood beside her desk, internally cursing when they took a step back instead of supporting her in this time of need. You’d thought their camaraderie would extend to this kind of situation! “I.. mean? We’re not sure when you were going to come back and we got it under control already thanks to The Captain.”
“You call that under control?!?” Citlali shoved her finger to her face indignantly, her face beet red both from outrage and exertion. Apparently she had sprinted nonstop from her house to the stadium in a speed that even the fastest runners from the Scions of Canopy would be envious of. “You left my grandson who is in heat to the Fatui hands and you call that under control???????”
“Heey. Calm down, okay? It’s not as bad as you put it-”
“For TWO days?! AND YOU HAVEN’T HEARD FROM THEM FOR TWO DAYS? MAVUIKA, REALLY??”
“I doubt The Captain would hurt Ororon.” Xilonen finally piped up. “If anything, he has shown himself to be rather protective of him.”
“Ye… yeah! Calm down a little, okay? I’ll ask one of the agents to ask which camp they’re at right now if you want. But I remember you told me that Ororon’s heat should pass on its own in 4-5 days? He probably still rode it out on his own while waiting for it to go away.”
“The Harbinger hasn’t come back either?” Citlali squinted at her, clearly still unappeased.
“Maybe he’s keeping watch there? He seems like a responsible type.” Iansan patted her back in consolation. “Chill out, granny.”
Uuuuughhh. The youngster these days are so fucking lax! Can’t they understand how worrisome it is for her unmarried grandson to be left alone and vulnerable in that kind if wolf’s den full of rugged, uncouth, and frustrated military men???? And that harbinger too! She hasn’t forgiven him for turning her grandson into a rebellious delinquent!
Alright. Alright. They get a pass for now. It’s her fault to begin with anyway.
“Okay.” Citlali took a deep breath and collapsed at the chair. Ouch, her knees started to ache now. That’s what she got for sprinting through that distance in her age. “Okay. Get me the camp location, I’ll go there myself.”
Mavuika promised she would contact the Fatui immediately and told Citlali to wait at the tavern in the meantime to catch her breath. Unfortunately, Citlali had no time to get a drink or two at the moment. Her Special Tingly-Tightly, Snuggly Warm Pussy, Menopause-go-away! tonic should prolong and worsen Ororon’s heat. right now she had to make the antidote or else her poor grandson probably going to suffer for a week or more without any ‘assistance’.
Fuck. Let’s hope Mavuika’s trust in that harbinger is not in vain and he can indeed keep the situation under control. While normal people tend to be largely unaffected to Ororon’s pheromone, who knows what those brutes will do when presented with her cute, vulnerable and needy grandson? She gotta finish the antidote before Mavuika’s informant returns so she can immediately deliver the suppresant herself.
She didn’t get to do that, however, as Mavuika herself came to inform her that the Fatui agent informed Ororon would be back later in the evening.
Well, that’s a relief.
Wait no. That’s not a relief?!
How did his heat go down already??? That’s impossible! How come her tonic’s effect disappeared in just two days on it’s own? There’s no way unless.. Unless..
“Um, Citlali?” Mavuika seemed to caught on as well, twisting her hair somewhat nervously. “He.. you know.. can he get pregnant?”
Hell if she knows?! No way. Does pregnancy even cancel out her tonic’s effect? Wait. Wait, calm down. Just because the heat ended too soon doesn’t mean it’s caused by fertilization right? It doesn’t even manifest in just 2 days?
Yeah. Calm down. Let’s think about this calmly, old girl. The heat ended early doesn’t mean Ororon is at risk for bearing a child out of wedlock! It just means that he had enough orgasm to flush out all that pheromone, yeah!
“O..kay. How many orgasms does he need to cram in 2 days to make it end this early?” Oh shit. Did she say that out loud? No one else heard that right?
“Don’t mind me.” Kinich piped up, eyes disinterested. Beside him, Mualani stood red faced with mouth open, also nodded fiercely at her. Fuck. Did she air her grandson’s sex life to outsiders?
“…. Many times.” More than her silly grandson would have the stamina to do it on his own in two days. Did he.. did he get coerced?! Who did he spend his heat with?! Oh shit. Did they remember to use protection?
“Citlali, calm down.”
Who is it? Who dared to take advantage of her naive grandson?! Did that useless harbinger let it happen?
“.. you know. If I make a guess on whom, it’s probably…” Xilonen trailed off and glanced at Mavuika as if she was confirming something. “Ororon’s not exactly subtle about his crush even though he thought otherwise.”
Crush? What crush?
With whom?
No way. No, no.
“The.. the harbinger guy?”
“Yep.”
“Ororon is???”
The fuck? What happened with 3 dangers to be wary of? She clearly taught him to avoid suspicious strangers! How is that stupid brat always running to the opposite direction than he’s supposed to? A harbinger? This isn’t a light novel! Dark, brooding, mysterious bad boy from the north is only good at fiction! She thought everyone knew this?!
“I’m actually surprised you didn’t notice? He runs off to The Captain’s side every chance he gets. Right guys?” Half of the people present nodded in unison, confirming Iansan’s words.
He did that to his aphids as well! Wait, isn’t being at the same level of priority as his aphids means that’s some serious interest? Fuck. She was careless! She should’ve known his running away stint was only the start of his rebellious phase! How did he jump from aiding suspicious foreign military force to.. to banging their leader?!
“I need a drink.”
She needed a lot of it if she wanted to talk to her stupid grandson without having a mental breakdown when he finally arrived later. Damn. She’s supposed to give the ‘talk’ before he did the deed and not after!