Chapter Text
We're going after this all wrong, you know."
Dream tilted his head at the newcomer that he'd expelled with the express purpose of only allowing him back, to kill Wilbur - he'd had enough, of the cocky Brit usurping power...but he couldn't afford to kill him, personally. "What do you mean?"
"Assassinate Wilbur, and his party wins the sympathy vote - hell, at least one of the other parties will probably throw in, and you'll end up with Tommy fucking Innit running things...which I'm pretty sure you don't want."
"I could...live with that..."
"You're imagining yourself as the power behind his throne, aren't you? But you forgot one thing: Wilbur created L'Manberg essentially to spite you, and ignore your puppet king...and killing him will only make the kid dig in, and double down, on Wilbur's wishes. Also...he'll make Tubbo his second in command. And the others will work with him, out of pity, because Wilbur was his only family."
"As long as Wilbur Soot is alive, he's going to be a thorn in my side."
"No...as long as he's free to foment revolution, he's a thorn in your side. If you kill him, he becomes a martyr, and he's still a thorn...but...if you manage to break him..."
"I suppose you think you can do that?"
"And I'll add in punishing the others who went along with him, who would otherwise probably try the same thing, later."
"Go on."
"Destroy L'Manberg, and they'll just rebuild...but: let me take over L'Manberg, and I'll break your dissidents, and return things to order."
"Leaving you running the country."
"Look at me more as...warden of a prison camp. Your enemies will be forced labor, to make your George's kingdom prosper, through mutually beneficial trade treaties: I control the malcontents, he just...sits his pretty ass on his throne, whenever he's awake."
"You really think you can pull this off?"
"I fucking know I can: just give me what I need, and I'll even find a way to remove your new puppet from George's throne."
"Eret's easily dealt with."
"Are you sure? She seems more popular, than your boy."
Dream's eyes narrowed at that. "Fine...just be careful you don't promise more than you can deliver." He crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you need?"
"An official endorsement; public and private support for my campaign, including intelligence, supplies, and certain nefarious perks and provisions necessary to ensure the success of our endeavor; a promise that you won't interfere, no matter who comes to you with what claims, or tears in their eyes; reassurance that you'll be comfortable with or at the very least accepting of my methods, no matter how harsh or dark, and allow me to bring them to full fruition; and your ironclad promise of L'Manberg as my autonomous familial estate, granted in perpetuity to my descendants, along with official recognition of the hierarchy I will dictate for the personal dynasty which I will be building as part of the plan."
Dream chuckled. "Is that all?"
The man tilted his head, putting his inhuman eyes in shadow, combining with his curved horns to make his anticipatory grin seem somehow almost demonic. "Well, to even start, I need a lab, and for you to sneak George a little something, from time to time, during the campaign."
"What?"
He held up a hand, at Dream's obvious bristling at any threat to his paramour. "Just a sleeping potion...I don't want to include him in my machinations, I just need for him to not show up - as much as he sleeps, anyhow, no one will question him sleeping through debates. And if you administer the potion, you know that's all it is, and I can promise to keep my hands off of him, entirely."
Dream relaxed. "I appreciate you offering that, without my insistence...so...if you want George out of your way...that means you want Quackity to lose?"
"No...I want him to win. Because of our strategic alliance."
"Why Quackity?"
"He's young, he's attractive, and most importantly, he's impressionable, and easy to direct."
"So's Tommy."
"Tommy's fanatically loyal to Wilbur...and far too volatile." He chuckled. "Or...is that your way of asking me to deliver him to you?"
"Deliver him?"
"Sure...I'll even tame and train him, for you."
Dream reddened, behind his mask. "You make him sound like a horse."
He smirked at the blush...and Dream's careful wording, neither confirming or denying that he was right, about the other man's desires. "We both know you want to take him for a ride..."
"I'm in love with George." It still wasn't a denial.
He wanted the extra insurance, from the desire for forbidden fruit blinding or at least hardening Dream against the soon to be plight, to making him take part in it, making him just as guilty of the depraved parts, ensuring he'd do everything in his power to shut down any attempts at retaliation. "But you want Tommy broken, more than you want Wilbur dead."
"Killing Wilbur will take away his protection, and the man who's teaching him his reckless ways."
"But he'll try to act like his idol, as a tribute, for the rest of his life...no, he has to witness Wilbur falling off his pedestal, maybe even be hurt by his antics..."
"Wilbur won't hurt Tommy: he's very protective."
"We'll see." He grinned. "So...do we have a deal?"
Dream nodded. "You have my permission to do whatever you have to, to take L'Manberg away from Wilbur, so long as you punish the insurrectionists, and make certain there will never be another uprising. Unless we plan it, ourselves."
"And I'll make certain that we both get our happy endings, since no one else will...well, except for George, maybe, but that one's all on you."
Quackity's face reddened, as his new partner's hand stayed tightly clasped around his for just a moment longer than necessary...the almost...hungry look, that had briefly flashed in those dark, almost predatory eyes sent a shiver down his spine. Those eyes held the same drive, the same determination as Wilbur's warm brown eyes...but somehow...Schlatt was harder, the difference between a sword blade glowing from the forge, but not yet having it's edge, and the sharpened, solid finished weapon. Wilbur was like that red hot metal, a leader still forming, his ideals glowing like fire...but Schlatt had the air of having gone through battles, and survived. He had no doubt that he'd just decisively won the election through this strategic allegiance...but at what cost? What did he know about this newcomer who clearly feared no one on the server, self assured to the point of arrogance?
Schlatt fought a chuckle, as he saw his plan already working: Quackity's eyes had been...alluring, before the pupils widened; his chest, noticeably rising and falling faster, strained against his shirt, the young man's muscles teasingly displayed for brief moments; seeing those soft lips part made him think of what he wanted to put between them... "I'm going to need to pump you for information, sometime soon, partner...how...intimately do you know Wilbur Soot?"
"We...all know each other, around here...I mean, Wilbur and Niki are best friends..."
"Niki's cute, but that won't carry an election. Wilbur...built this country, right?"
"Yes...out of the drug van he built it to protect."
"Well, we can't really attack that, since our constituents chose to enable him to do it...but...what is this I hear, about him...fucking a fish?"
Quackity turned red. "Well...Fundy...his son..."
"How the hell do you get a fox by fucking a fish? What kind of magic fucking bullet is he packing, exactly?"
"It's...weirder than that, but I'm not sure how it helps?"
Schlatt chuckled. "Do you know why I want you, Quackity?"
"What..." He turned beet red at his reaction, assuming Schlatt hadn't meant it the way he'd taken it. "I mean...because...you need an inside man, to get L'Manberg to trust you, of course..."
Schlatt imagined him with that blush spreading over that perpetually sunkissed skin: training him was going to be so very satisfying... "That's barely the surface, my pretty little ingenue: while my age has given me experience, and wisdom, and patience...Wilbur has the fire of youth, and his outwardly idealistic convictions - not to mention, L'Manberg is...his mistress, in a way - he courted her, romanced her, every touch, every caress meant to turn her into his willing slave..."
"He...uhm..." Quackity licked his still parted lips, having to catch his breath. "...his platform...is about personal liberties...the freedom to...be able to enjoy life how we want..."
"And what do you want, Quackity? Do you want to give up your bodily autonomy to the poison Wilbur is peddling, to keep the masses submissive?"
"I...n-no...I like to...stay in control..."
"If we're going to top Wilbur Soot, I need to know every dirty little secret: his virtues are on flagrant display, tarted up like a high class call girl to seduce the weak minded to suck his cock...metaphorically speaking, of course..."
The younger man was clearly not seeing it metaphorically... "Uhm...well...there are those...who think that he and Niki are...more than friends..."
"Okay, that's a start...an illicit affair...it would be nice to hear that he's cheating on his baby mama, but...I'm not sure what the legalities are, about fish fucking...I mean...is she some sort of mermaid, or was it straight up bestiality, in the first place? If he buggered a bass, I'm pretty sure there's no consent to be had..."
"Sally's a salmon...and...she apparently fucked him, somehow, since he's the one who gave birth to Fundy..."
"He...was the one who got knocked up, by a fish? Oooh, that's just...kinky...so: are they married?"
Quackity bit his lip, unable to meet Schlatt's hungry gaze. "No...I...don't think they're even together, anymore..."
"So Wilbur's a naughty little slut, who got himself bred by a lower species, because he's all about pleasure without considering the consequences...we can work with that..." Quackity couldn't restrain a soft groan, at the images Schlatt was putting in his head: Schlatt outwardly ignored it...and made it worse. "...especially with you being engaged to Eret - we're trying to create a meaningful partnership with the SMP, based on love and respect...that doesn't mean the marriage bed is going to be boring, but it's not enough for Wilbur - he wants to take risks, fuck around indiscriminately, then call his little accidents heirs...how many of his accidents can the people be expected to support, just so he can get off on his little power trip?"
"I love Eret...it's not just...a political arrangement..." Calling it the latter had clearly disturbed the young man...meaning he had his doubt that it wasn't that sort of arrangement, somehow, at it's core...
"Of course you do...that's why you're the perfect counter to Wilbur's sexpot antics: the handsome, loyal prince, soon to give the romantics a royal wedding...and their private fantasies, about your wedding night, because that's all they can ever hope to have, as you're becoming even more the forbidden fruit...the untouchable ideal, a man who has everything, and is satisfied with just the love of his life, not needing nor wanting any other..." Schlatt put a hand on his shoulder. "You are what they want to be, Quackity...if they're truthful...and they'll elect us so they can live vicariously through you...so they can have the little white lie of freedom Wilbur seduced them with, while you actually deliver on the promise of eroding SMP control, by seducing your bride to our side..."
"I won't manipulate her..."
"I'm not asking you to...I'm just asking that you show her that real leaders don't feel threatened, by real men...and control doesn't have to be through an iron fist...in fact, it's a lot stronger when it comes from a soft touch...even...a caress...a hand placed just so..." He let his hand slide down, to rest between Quackity's shoulder blades.
"I...if...dirt on Wilbur...will really help us...I'll...go compile what I know."
"You do that, Prince Charming..." He watched the younger man have to fight not to run from the room.
"Are you really going to slut shame Wilbur?" Dream's amused voice came from the corner.
"Not the way you think...getting control of him was never the goal of this exercise."
"Really..."
"If you want to see what I was setting in motion, pass me some of that invisibility potion, and get ready to run, because he's got a head start." Picking up the quickly appearing bottle, he saluted the general direction it came from. "You owe me dinner, too, for the show you're about to get..."
They indeed had to hurry to catch up and keep up with Quackity: the young man clearly had a destination in mind...and a strong desire to get there. Once he reached the castle, it became easier, as his intentions became clear...
"Eret..." He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, ending up pushing her against the wall. "I need you..."
"Quackity, what..."
"I can't think...of anything else..." He slid his hand up her leg, under her dress: as he boldly cupped his target, clearly teasing, she let out a surprised but appreciative moan, her leg slowly sliding up his until it was wrapped around his waist. "Baby...please..." He kissed her again, and began sliding the top of her dress down her shoulders.
Eret pulled him into one of the many rooms in the castle. "I was going to save this, for the honeymoon...I had a special table made, for the signing of the unification documents between L'Manberg and the SMP..." Unbuttoning his shirt, she tossed it to the floor, freeing his wings, which flared as she began playing with them. "Why don't we...practice the unification?"
Schlatt's jaw hit his chest, as Quackity pinned her to the table's gleaming top, his wings extending to their full length above them. "He...has wings?"
Dream chuckled. "Is that a problem?"
"No...especially not with that ass, and...damn, he's hung for such a short guy..." ...and Eret was moaning her pleasure as he thrust into her, her legs wrapped around his waist, hands gripping his wings.
"What are your plans, for Quackity?"
"I'm going to seduce him."
"Not that I object to that, but...how, when he's actually in love with the other half of the political marriage I was originally hoping to use to regain control?"
"We're going to break them up, of course...and I'm going to pick up the pieces. You want to put your boy George back on the throne, too, don't you?"
"Once Wilbur Soot and his upstart country are under control."
"Then..." Schlatt turned back to watch the statuesque monarch arch and writhe beneath his personal target. "I'll help you get her under control, too."
"How are you going to do that? Eret's actually competent...and present." He sighed. "I can only make George king, if there's almost nothing for the king to do."
"By the time I'm done, all the threats you've mentioned will be dealt with."
Quackity's voice was raising, in tone and volume: Schlatt observed carefully, as his wings began to shiver and flare. "Ahhh...ahhhhahh...god, baby...you are so...fucking...hottt...I'm about to..." As her moans also increased, he kissed her, to trap the sound. Burying himself in her to the hilt, he otherwise reared back, a primal howl ringing off the stones.
"One thing: notice what afterglow means, for them."
Schlatt raised an eyebrow at Eret's literally glowing white eyes. "So? It's not like she's anything like her family..."
"And if they show up to save her?"
"We negotiate...think how much easier this would be, if one of her relatives took out Wilbur."
"Well, then...the deal we made so you could come back stands: you can have the power you wrest from Wilbur, and others like him. I won't question your methods, and might even help. In the end, L'Manberg becomes a prison colony, for going against me, even if they think it's not."
Over the next few weeks, Schlatt took every opportunity to begin grooming his conquest: telling the starry eyed youth what he wanted to hear, his voice subtly lower when the younger man was hanging on every word; using any excuse for his hand to settle on his body, a pat, a caress, even a long, strong handshake - especially when he could couple the physical contact with praise; even switching his cigars to the ones that seemed to please his target's senses...especially when laced with other substances, the smoke from which left him more suggestible...all while setting up a regrettable little accident...
The night before election, as they cleared their campaign offices for the last time, the last two out, Schlatt stopped him, as he reached for the door. "Just one last thing, Quackity..." The hand on his shoulder slowly turned him back around to face the other man. "For better or for worse...heh..." He kept his smile almost tender. "...I guess you'll be saying those words, tomorrow night, win or lose...I just want you to know, it's been a pleasure working with you."
Quackity caught his breath, his eyes shining brightly. "Hey...we're going to keep working together, because we're going to win, tomorrow."
Schlatt's smile slid into his half smirk, which usually meant he had his doubts about something. "Ah, the fire of youth...so certain..." He glanced away, back at the now idle office. "We've worked our asses off for it, heaven knows." He turned back, the normal hardness in his eyes slipping...seeming to briefly remove years from his appearance. "Well...here's for luck." He kissed Quackity lightly on both cheeks, pulled him in for a brief, though...close...hug, then let go, and was halfway out the door before Quackity could register what happened. "If you can spare a second, tomorrow night, before running off on your honeymoon, why don't you come show off your lovely bride at the victory party?"
He watched in multiple reflective surfaces, as Quackity stared after him, one hand slowly raising to his now burning face...
The next night, he watched as Quackity grabbed the spiked bottles he'd planted for him to find, and timed his intervention to allow him to drink enough that his judgement was nowhere to be found - then stepped in, the protective concerned friend... "Quackity?" Schlatt's voice was carefully startled, as he stopped in the doorway that he hadn't bothered to close, expecting no one to be here. "What's wrong?"
Quackity's eyes snapped up for a moment, startled...meeting the other man's gaze, full of shame that he hadn't bothered to try and keep his emotions quiet, thinking he was alone... "I...no...nothing..." He laid his head on his arms on the desk, trying to hide his face.
Schlatt's gaze flicked from the younger man's seriously drunken red rimmed gaze, to the ring lying on the desk instead of being on his finger, to the blood on his unbuttoned, untucked shirt: the plan had clearly gone off, perfectly. "I see." Kicking over the already empty bottle on the floor to get the younger man's attention, he sat on the desk beside him. Reaching out slowly, he began lightly rubbing the other man's back, comforting, but also suggestive. "I'm not going to ask what happened...you can tell me if you want, but...given that you're hiding in a dark office when there's a party going on, you clearly don't want to talk..."
Quackity felt the tremors that had made it hard to not spill his drink become a full blown shake, as Schlatt's gentle touch drove home what he'd just lost. "I...god, Schlatt...I...I fucked up...soy un maldito idiota."
"Hey...you can't be that much of an idiot...you just won an election." Schlatt allowed his hand to slide slowly from contact, as he sat up, a passive caress.
"They deserve better...she deserves better..." He grabbed the bottle, taking several large swallows.
Schlatt's eyes widened. "Quackity..."
"You should go back to the party...Mr. President."
Schlatt took the bottle out of his hand, taking a long drink, himself...time to start their private party... "I wouldn't be much of a president, if I left my vice president alone, in this state."
"We can't both miss our own party." He tried to take the bottle back.
Schlatt held it just out of reach. "You're right...which is why you're coming back with me: you don't have to dance, or make a speech...hell, you can hide in the corner, if you want...as long as you're where I can keep an eye on you." See how I care for you?
"I'm a grown man, Schlatt...I don't need a babysitter...besides...I have blood all over my shirt."
"Not a babysitter...just a concerned friend...and I have spare shirts in my office." He stood, starting to head for the door with the bottle.
"Goddamn it, Schlaaaa..." Quackity stood, clearly intending to come after him, and take the bottle...but the room began spinning...
Schlatt whirled around, catching the younger man in his arms, and cradled him carefully. "Quackity?!"
His eyes fluttered open alluringly, as he was being gently lowered onto his own desktop. "Hhuh..."
Schlatt stared down at him, hiding his almost predatory lust behind worry. "Okay. Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to get a shirt for you; you're coming back to the party with me; you're staying in my sight; you're drinking coffee for the rest of the night; and you're going to fucking eat something, as soon as you..." He caught Quackity before he could fully roll off the desk, holding his head up enough that he was throwing up in his trash can, not onto the wood or the carpet. "As soon as you sober up, enough." He paused. "You know..." Gently massaging his shoulders, before sliding his suspenders down his arms, he grasped Quackity's wrist with a dominant grip: from the moan he couldn't restrain, it sent a bolt of desire though him, that left him incapable of resisting. Perfect. Schlatt unbuttoned his shirt, speaking in a soft, reassuring voice as he slowly pulled the bloody cloth away. "I don't know what happened, and I don't need to, as long as you're not hurt." He tossed the shirt towards the trash can.
Quackity very slowly managed to shake his head. "Not...physically..." He started shaking, again.
"Hey..." Schlatt slowly pulled him into his arms, caressing his dark, dishevelled hair. "I'm sure it's not that bad..."
The drug clearly in control, Quackity poured the entire story out in a jumble, ending up crying on the other man's shoulder.
"Okay." Schlatt began rubbing his back...paying careful attention to his newly unhidden wings... "So, it's bad...but you'll bounce back..." On my cock...mmmh. That swallow of the laced booze had him hard as rock.
He shook his head, pulling away, his expression that of a shattered man. "She'll never take me back."
"Her loss." He stared earnestly into his tear-filled eyes. "Quackity...you're young, you're handsome, you're ambitious..."
"You...think I'm handsome?"
"I mean...yeah...look at you..." A slight blush settled over his features, as he acted like he hadn't meant to bite his lip, like that... "You could have your choice of anyone at the party." His hands lightly caressed their way up Quackity's arms, to rest on his shoulders. "Speaking of...do you think you can stand?"
"You want me at the party, looking like this?"
"Actually...a cold shower will help sober you up a little, as well as getting you cleaned up...I can carry you to my office, but holding you up in the shower sounds like a recipe for disaster, if I slip...imagine the pictures in the paper..."
Quackity shivered - but clearly not from fear. "Yeah? I think?" Schlatt picked him up: he snuggled against his chest with a sigh, before realizing how that looked. "I'm sorry..."
"Hey...no...I'm glad you trust me enough to take care of you, when you need it."
"I do trust you...god...Schlatt...what am I going to do..."
Turning on the shower, he made the water warmer than the ice cold he used to wake up. "Well, you're going to give a lot of people hope, being newly single..." He pushed him gently against the wall, using unfastening his pants as the excuse...one action or the other finished what the spiked booze had started, and his cock sprang to freedom. "...a...lot of hope..."
"Oh, God..." Quackity turned beet red, hiding his eyes in his hands. "I'm sorry...I...I don't mean it..."
"Are you sure?" He put just a hint of disappointment in his tone.
"Hhuuuh?" Quackity's wide eyes peeked through his fingers.
Schlatt sighed. "Look...you're...upset...in pain...and I need you at the party with me...and...I really...I know it's not right...with you working for me...I...god, I feel like I'm taking advantage...but...you shouldn't be miserable, all night..." He stared into Quackity's eyes, letting him see the desire in his own...then slowly slid his gaze down, making the younger man shiver. Kneeling, he placed one hand on Quackity's hip, and when he wasn't rebuffed, leaned forward, lightly licking the head of the hard shaft.
Quackity moaned. "Oh, god...what..."
Grasping his manhood with a firm hand, Schlatt licked more, and harder, tonguing the small opening at the tip, and sucking on the head: Quackity slowly slid down the wall. "Okay...we don't have time, for much..." Leaning over him, he deep throated the younger man...and slid a finger slowly into his ass, getting a strangled shriek of pleasure: it didn't take much, for his brand new lover to come, filling his mouth with thick, sweet - thanks to the drug - come.
"Oh, god...I'm sorry..."
Sitting up, Schlatt caught and held his gaze, licking his lips after swallowing: while the younger man was still staring at him in shock...and hope...he pulled him up off the floor, into his arms, and kissed him hungrily, demandingly, letting him taste his own flavor as their tongues met. "You can pay me back, after the party..."
The shower was mainly an excuse to run his hands all over his conquest...and to press his own rock hard member against his back, as a promise of things to come...
Quackity was far more sober, when they stepped out of the shower, and hurriedly dressed. "Oh, god...we're going to be late to our own party."
"Fashionably late..." Schlatt reached out, tying Quackity's tie for him, holding it for several seconds longer after tightening it, than necessary. "And our party hasn't even started, yet."
Quackity bit his lip, that beautiful blush settling over his cheeks.
Schlatt made sure Quackity's night was a blur of congratulations, celebration, and elevating horniness, redosing him and rubbing against him at every chance to do so, unnoticed...smiling as he saw the memory of what they'd done fade to a question in his eyes, and the reality of losing Eret set back in. To his credit, for the most part, he managed to act like it was the best night of his life, instead of one of the worst. Once they were the last two left, Quackity grabbed a half full bottle of champagne, saluting the other man before holding it to his lips.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." Schlatt, drunk himself, was slower to get to the other man, this time: by the time he took the bottle out of his hands, there were only a few swallows left. "Jesus, Q..." Pulling a chair around to face his, he sat. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Wha's th point?" Even easy words were hard, his speech more than a little slurred. "I fucked up...she left me...no goin back."
Schlatt reached out, gently wiping away tears that Quackity hadn't been aware he was shedding. "Like I said before: her loss."
He leaned into the caresses, subconsciously. "Are you sure...you still wan me as your veep, knowin whatta idiot I am?"
"Of course, I still want you...and not just as vice president." He stood, carefully pulling Quackity to his feet...Quackity still ended up leaning against his chest. Sidearming leftover bottles out of the way on the bar, he bent the smaller man over it, so he was staring at his own startled expression, in the mirror. "Ready to take a final poll, and put the vice in vice president?" He leaned down, growling in his ear. "Because this is our private celebration, and I'm going to pound your ass like a pinata."
Quackity whimpered, biting his lip as Schlatt grabbed the front of his shirt, literally ripping it open, sending the buttons flying: his ass rubbed over Schlatt's screaming shaft, begging to be fucked. "Please..." His wings flared to their aroused full height as Schlatt tossed away the shirt, and shoved his suspenders down his arms. Feathers seemed to whisper naughty things, as he massaged the bones the same way he was massaging Quackity's hot, throbbing rod through his pants, which quickly pooled around his ankles. Quackity's nails clawed at the wooden bar, as Schlatt slowly pushed himself into his tight ass. "Hhhnnn...ohhh, god..."
"Damn, you're tight..." Entering him almost hurt: Schlatt began pumping the smaller man's cock, to try and make his ass loosen up. "Come on, baby...if you're going to work under me...now's a good time to start...move that tight little ass..."
Grinding his teeth against the pain, Quackity pushed back against him, until the slow passage of the huge shaft across his prostate brought him, hard, filling Schlatt's hand with his come. "Aaaaahhhhahhhhhhhh...." His moan grew to a scream that echoed off the walls: that, the look on his tear streaked face in the mirror, and his already tight ass clamping down eroded what little control Schlatt still had, from the alcohol.
"Ahghhhh...ohhh, yeah...that's my good little boy..." Laying on top of him, panting, he leaned down, ran his fingers through the younger man's hair, and kissed him, deeply. "...how's that, for consummating a union..."
The rest of the night involved waking just long enough to find another bottle, share it, then try another position: Schlatt took several pictures of Quackity passed out, come running down his legs and ass, puddling on the floor...just because he wouldn't remember it, the next day, didn't mean Schlatt didn't want to... As daylight started to creep across the horizon, he woke him with the last bottle of wine, copiously laced with the drug: after fucking him one last time against the back wall in the alley behind the bar, he used the last of it to rinse him out enough to get home without leaving a trail of come...and to ensure he fully forgot most of what happened.
"If anyone asks, I'm making sure you get home in one piece."
They ended up walking each with one arm around the other's waist, unable even with that to walk a straight line - either from alcohol or soreness: Quackity leaned into the other man, the feeling of being held suddenly something for which he was desperate, even if it was just Schlatt, escorting him home. The champagne fully hit his already sauced system, thankfully, right as they reached his house: Schlatt half carried him inside, peeled his clothes off of him, and dragged him into the bathroom. Holding him in the shower, he ran his hands over every inch, cleansing away the remains of the night - of course, he'd feel it, but at least he wouldn't find evidence of the level of debauchery.
Finally, he carried him into the bedroom, and laid him on his bed... The feeling of the other man's hands sliding behind his head, and the small of his back...of his breath against his cheek, as he laid him down... Quackity's lips parted, his eyes finally able to focus only on the other man, as his body made his reaction crystal clear, pressed against Schlatt's leg... "Don' go...please..."
Schlatt stared into his eyes, startled, for what felt like an eternity, before slowly leaning down...then pressing his lips hungrily to Quackity's, his fingers again plunging into his thick dark hair, still damp from the shower: making sure Quackity felt his own rock hard member side past his, he pulled him back up into a sitting position, then slid his hands slowly down his chest, leaning down to kiss his way across Quackity's exposed throat, and up his jawline. Schlatt met his gaze with burning eyes for a long moment, then pressed his lips back into the younger man's mere seconds before his hands cupped his balls in a hot, strong grip...catching the half moan, half scream with a deep penetrating kiss. Sliding his other hand up Quackity's back, he plunged his fingers into the feathers of one of his wings, petting, playing, caressing along the hardness of the bones...Quackity's head rocked back, with a cry of pleasure, his length twitching against Schlatt's other softly massaging hand at the sensation. "Oh, g...god, Schlatt..."
"Lie on your stomach." His voice was deeper, almost a growl, yet full of lust, as he let go of Quackity's suddenly aching flesh. Strong hands began at his shoulders, caressing, massaging, petting; fingers ran through his feathers, again, this time paying attention to both wings, and not stopping until they were trembling; lips kissed their way down his spine, like lightning, as hands slid down from his low back...he moaned, as Schlatt raised his hips, shifting so he was on his knees... One hand again encircled his cock, gently but firmly massaging it...
The other hand caressed his ass, finally drawing two fingers down from his low back, parting his ass cheeks: Quackity whimpered in anticipation, wrapping his arms around his pillow as Schlatt teasingly ran a single fingertip over his waiting hole. "Please..." Schlatt's deep chuckle made him shiver: as the hand around his member began seriously pumping, the pressure against his asshole intensified painfully, until the single fingertip slid inside... Quackity screamed into his pillow, his whole frame shaking, as he came, hard...
The room was spinning around him: he slowly became aware that Schlatt's other hand, having caught his come, had replaced the first...using his own fluids to slide a different finger further inside, then a second one... His back arched, wings flaring as Schlatt fingered him, his other hand now lightly cupping his balls, rolling them gently in his palm. As Quackity's keening wails of pleasure echoed off the walls, something else...hot, hard, throbbing...rested against his ass: both hands firmly grasped his hips, and his spasming hole felt Schlatt's much larger manhood replace his fingers, slowly, deliberately...
"Ahhh, God..." Schlatt's voice was thick with lust, as he pushed slowly in, savoring the feeling of Quackity's body squeezing more and more of him. "Damn, you're still tight..." He began pulling out just slightly, then pushing back in, further. Quackity began pushing back against him, wanting him deeper: he chuckled, leaning over and wrapping one arm around Quackity's stomach, to control their speed...but still gave him what he wanted, his full length inside. Then he pulled almost all the way out, just as slowly: the younger man fought him, trying to push back against him, his moans almost becoming sobs...until he thrust in, hard and fast, rewarded with a strangled shriek. Schlatt began moving faster, both arms now around the other man in a possessive embrace.
"Oh, God...hhh...Oh, God...Oh...GodohGodohGoooddd..." Quackity clamped down hard, as he came, again: Schlatt lost control, pounding into him until he exploded deep inside...
Quackity passed out, from the intensity of the pleasure shooting through him.
Schlatt took his time catching his breath, before sliding off his new plaything: putting Quackity's clothes in the wash, he slipped out, after leaving him just enough evidence of his presence to make him wonder...
His head was pounding...
His mouth felt like a desert...
His back...somehow...his back felt better than it had, in months...
...until it reached his ass...which was...pleasantly sore...
Huh?
And...why...was the smell of cigar smoke...making him harder than he usually got, in the morning?
Sitting up took a while...but answered his questions, only to raise a dozen others, by triggering hazy...if guiltily pleasant...memories.
Painkillers and a glass of water were waiting for him, on the bedstand...the latter resting on a carefully folded pocket square, to protect the wood.
Schlatt's pocket square, from last night...
"Oh, God...what did I do..."
He left the pocket square under a mug of coffee on Schlatt's desk, before he came in, and sat at his own desk...less than comfortably.
It was a week before he quit expecting some sort of repercussions at work...especially after Schlatt had thrown out Wilbur and Tommy. Quackity could've sworn he saw Dream smile, at their exile...but he couldn't really remember if he'd been drunk or hung over, during the inaugural speech...and Schlatt was nothing but professional.
Had he imagined it?
No...he'd had to return the pocket square...
Maybe...he'd just...tucked him in, and left the painkillers because he knew how bad the hangover was going to be?
Was that better or worse, than a drunken one night stand with his boss?
Was it a one night stand?
Did he want it to be?
God...he'd just...he'd just lost Eret...how could he have...and with his new boss... Feeling his eyes sting and knowing he was breathing way too fast, he turned around, intending to close himself in his office...
Schlatt caught the door before he could close it entirely. "Hey..." Sliding into the room, he eyed Quackity's shaking hand, and it's severely endangered mug of coffee, and shut the door behind himself. "What's going on, Big Q?" He carefully took the mug from the younger man, setting it safely on his desk. "I know you're working your ass off, but...you look like you're counting down the days to your own execution."
"I'm sorry...I..." He leaned against his desk, trying to catch his breath.
Schlatt's arms wrapped around him, from behind. "You're doing fine, Quackity."
Feeling Schlatt's cock pressed against his ass through their clothes, he couldn't help but shiver in anticipation. "Mr. President...I..."
Schlatt's hands ran over his chest, then began unbuttoning his shirt. "I haven't been able to get you out of my mind...Alex..."
"S...sir...?"
"I think you know what I'm talking about." Schlatt's lips pressed lightly over Quackity's jugular, as his hands slid down his bare chest, grasping his belt. Quackity whimpered softly, leaning his head back against Schlatt's shoulder as his pants slid to the floor: when one hand slid up to lightly grasp his neck and the other slid down to massage his already hard length, he moaned, his knees almost giving out. "Shh, pretty boy...make too much noise, and we might get interrupted." Quackity whimpered again, softly, as Schlatt's hands slid to his hips, turning him and setting him on the edge of his desk: Schlatt leaned in, pressing his lips to the younger man's, as their members pressed together, through mere layers of cloth.
Quackity felt the room begin to spin as Schlatt's lips and tongue kept him from breathing for long, tantalizing moments, Schlatt's fingers woven through his hair, keeping him from pulling away: when Schlatt finally let him try to catch his breath, he only managed two ragged gasps, before Schlatt's hand plunged into his underwear, cupping his balls, and teasing his ass. His head thrown back as he fought the urge to cry out, he only heard Schlatt's belt jingle, and his pants falling around his ankles with the rustle of expensive linen. "You're mine, do you hear me?" Schlatt's breath was hot, as he growled the words in Quackity's ear, then lightly bit his neck.
"Aaahhhahhh..." He had to grab the taller man's shoulders, to steady himself.
"Say it." Schlatt's hands reached up, grabbing his wrists in a pleasantly tight grip, just barely pushing them back off of his shoulders...leaving Quackity's twitching shaft and hole screaming for more.
"Yours...I'm yours..."
Schlatt's smile was dark, seductive, dangerous... "That's my pretty little boy..." He made sure Quackity was watching, as he suggestively licked his middle finger, then the one next to it, before slowly lowering his hand out of view...as the dampened digits began probing Quackity's desperate hole, the other hand settled again over his throat, squeezing very lightly. "No noise...not here...you can scream for me later." Quackity bit his lip, as Schlatt prepared him, stretching, probing, teasing...the slight pain was barely enough to keep his moans muffled, and he couldn't resist a soft whimper, as Schlatt quit fingering him to pull his underwear out of the way. Schlatt's eyes stared into his, the mild, playful anger quickly turning to hunger, as he focused on Quackity's lips. "You're bleeding." Pressing his own mouth over Quackity's, he licked and sucked at the small wound, tasting his blood along with drinking his cries as he slowly entered him.
Quackity's fingers laced through Schlatt's thick hair, as he hungrily returned the kiss, his hips arching up against the other man's as his legs wrapped around him...eventually, Schlatt's arms slid around him, cradling his back to keep him from actually lying on the hard wood of the desk, making their way up until one hand was cushioning the back of Quackity's head, with the other arm pressed along his spine. Moving slowly, deliberately, he made certain the younger man felt every last millimeter of his cock stretching him open, deep inside...then pulled it just as slowly out: he repeated this, until Quackity was trembling against him, his breathing too ragged for sound.
Seeing tears trickling from the younger man's eyes from holding back his screams, Schlatt licked them from his cheeks, then kissed his forehead, tenderly. "Come for me, baby..." He began concentrating on massaging Quackity's prostate with his knob.
"Oh, God...Oh, god, oh god, ohgodohgodohhhgggooooddddd..." He buried his face against Schlatt's shoulder, muffling his barely restrained scream against his partner's flesh.
"That's right, baby..." He growled, next to Quackity's ear. "I'm your god, now." He kept the same pace, but added more strength to his thrusts, running his hand through Quackity's hair, his grip keeping his face pressed to his shoulder as his scream raised then faded into a whimper...that soft, helpless sound pushed him over the edge. "Hhhhhhhnnnnnnnnn..." He came hard: burying himself deep in the other man, he held him possessively immobile against his own body as his balls emptied themselves.
Slowly loosening his grip, he laid the raggedly panting younger man gently on his desk, leaning over him long enough to kiss him deeply, with a possessive caress. "You're mine." He caressed the damp, dark curls that now scattered around his flushed face, then pulled his suit back on. "I think, after this little distraction, that we need to go over a few things, tonight...so...dinner? At my place, seven o'clock?"
"Uhhhmhmmm..." He managed a half moaned affirmative.
Schlatt smiled. "I'll see you then."
Quackity spent the rest of the day occasionally squirming in his chair, between his stretched ass; Schlatt's come dampening his underwear...and the growing desire that kept distracting him and making him blush.
Schlatt chuckled, watching the security camera footage as Quackity tried to decide whether to bring in the flowers as well as some sort of dessert: he'd clearly managed to shower and change, as well, though he was still in a suit. Which suited Schlatt just fine. He snickered at the wordplay, and threw together two martinis, finishing just as Quackity finally rang the bell. Adding a little something extra to one, he made sure to be sipping the other as he answered the door, holding out the adulterated alcohol.
"Uhm..." Quackity quickly set the flowers on top of the pastry box, taking the glass, allowing Schlatt to take both box and bouquet. "Sorry if I'm late, I wanted to bring something..."
"It's perfect: I'm not fancy enough to make a decent dessert."
"Niki makes some of my favorites...so I grabbed a few different things."
"Niki Nihachu?"
Hearing his tone, Quackity hurried to elaborate. "I was also hoping to show you why we want to keep her around."
Schlatt chuckled. "Did she know you were intending to share them with me? Because then we should probably have someone test them, first."
"No, she's a sweetheart...she wouldn't...but no, she didn't ask who I was having dinner with."
"Okay, then...if you want to set them on the table, I'll serve up our plates." It worked perfectly: not only was he distracted while Schlatt doctored his plate...but he'd never expect someone suspicious of poison to be the one spiking the food. Setting his plate at the head of the table, he placed the second one in front of the seat next to his, and pulled out the chair.
"Thanks." Quackity blushed at the gesture, and sat. "Wow...if this is your idea of bachelor chow..."
"Can't run a country on an empty stomach...and maybe I'm trying to impress you." Schlatt poured him a glass of wine, then filled his own.
"Impress me...you're the president."
"Only with your help." He sat down, and reached for his fork, pausing when he saw Quackity praying over his plate. Oh, sweet sacrificial...duck...God won't save you... He managed not to smirk. "So...you're a believer?"
Quackity reddened, but nodded. "Yeah...I actually helped build the church."
"It can be a good thing, to have a belief in a higher power." But I'm your god, now.
"Do you believe?"
"I'm...not sure...I've become jaded, I suppose."
"Come to church with me." Quackity turned beet red. "I mean...if you'd like to, you can come to church with me, and see if it helps you as much as it helps me."
"I've forgotten the prayers...I'm not sure I can afford to...I mean...how would it look, the President stumbling over his words, like an idiot?"
"Well..." Quackity took a long sip of his wine. "I could help you relearn the words...it probably won't take too long, for you to remember them...maybe...at lunch, or after work?"
Schlatt was smiling. "Is that your way of asking me out?"
"I..." Quackity nearly choked on his food.
Schlatt quickly stood, patting him on the back as he coughed. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you, it was just a joke..." He paused, just long enough, before very softly adding: "...unless..." His hand settled between Quackity's wings.
Quackity finally managed to stop coughing, and drained his wine glass.
"I should get you some water..." Schlatt hurried into the kitchen, but paused to watch, hidden, as Quackity poured more wine into his glass: he was almost the same color as the beverage as he took several more swallows, more to tend his embarrassment than his afflicted throat. Knowing the extra alcohol would only strengthen the drugs, he made certain to put his other hand on Quackity's shoulder, as he set the water down.
"I'm sorry...god, I feel like an idiot."
"No, I shouldn't have teased you, like that, especially when you agreed to come here to work, instead of taking your night for yourself."
"It's more interesting than what I had planned."
"Ouch..."
"But...what are we working on, if I'm actually pulling my weight at the office?"
Schlatt sighed. "You got me, there - I...wanted to bring this up in private, because I don't know who I can trust, yet..." He met Quackity's gaze, as he sat down. "...except for you."
"Me?" Quackity stared back. "I mean..." He shook himself, after a moment. "...what...can you only trust me with?"
"Manberg's safety."
"Doesn't security effect everyone?"
"Yeah - which is why I'm asking you: Tubbo is loyal to Tommy; there's a lot of left over loyalty to Wilbur - Fundy's his son, for god's sake..."
"You think...Wilbur's going to try something?"
"Why else would I exile him, Quackity?"
"I did wonder that..."
"Well...he started the country out of a goddamned drug van, to spite Dream; there are all the shenanigans he pulled, during the election; not to mention the freaking fanatical revolutionary crap he was spewing..."
"And then you threw him out of his own country, so yeah, he's probably a threat."
"Do you think I was wrong?"
Quackity sighed. "I don't know...I mean - we all smoked, together, even during the election...but he's really devastated, that he lost..."
"You know him better than I do: help me figure out how he might target us, so we can make it impossible, and I'll try to come up with some way to let him come back, if he doesn't."
An hour after they'd finished dinner - and Quackity had finished a fourth glass of wine - the younger man sighed, shaking his head. "We really need to know where he is, to know where he'll come from."
"Well...can you ask Niki? Isn't she his friend?"
"Which is why she won't tell us: we're the ones who exiled him."
"Then don't ask, as the vice president: ask as a concerned friend - maybe even make her think you disagree with my decision."
"Lie to her?"
"Are you sure it's a lie?"
Quackity sighed, at his uncertain, self-deprecating tone. "I know why you did it...and you weren't wrong...it just...kind of sucks."
"Which is why I'm trying to not let things go so far that they suck even more...and trying to find a way to make it suck less."
"Do you really mean it? That you'll let Wilbur come back, if he doesn't do anything stupid?"
He glanced towards the door, as if making certain they were alone. "I'll have to deny it, if you tell anyone ahead of time, but...I'm actually looking forward to it. I...miss him, too, and I think that once he accepts that I'm in charge, now, he'll really strengthen Manberg's position."
"I'm so glad..."
"Honestly...I mainly had to throw him and Tommy out, because of Dream."
"Because...he wanted Wilbur to lose?"
"He wants Wilbur punished, for standing up to him...and Tommy...well..."
"Maybe some time having to survive in the woods will remind Tommy why rules are important, in a civilized society."
Schlatt snorted, derisively. "More like: Dream's hoping once he suffers a little, he'll let Dream be his sugar daddy."
Quackity's eyes went comically large. "What?!"
"Oh, come on...you haven't noticed how he looks at Tommy a lot longer than he does at Will, when they both misbehave?"
"Dream's...in love with Tommy?" Quackity shook his head. "No...he loves George - he follows him around like a goddamned puppy...the way he teases is..." He searched for the right word.
"Kind of cringe?" Schlatt offered, then put on an insecure expression. "Did I use that, right?"
"You used it right, but...I'm not sure it's really cringe level...I mean...it's kind of cute, actually..."
"So...if someone followed you around, like that...you'd be okay with it?"
"Oh, hell no...I mean, maybe a little, just as flirting, but...I'm a fucking adult, you know what I mean?"
"So...you'd expect someone to just...ask you out..." Schlatt refilled his wine. "...wine and dine you..." He reached over, turning on the juke box. "...maybe play some music..."
"Yeah...like freaking adults do." It took several long moments of the soft guitar music - romantic, with a hint of spice, no lyrics - for realization to dawn on him, painting his cheeks a deeper red than the wine had. "...oh..." It took another long moment - and a deep drink of his wine - for him to slowly meet Schlatt's expectantly amused eyes.
"So..." Schlatt put his hand over Quackity's, where it rested on the table. "Full disclosure...I...may have had ulterior motives, asking to meet here...I..." He blushed, glancing away from Quackity's startled gaze. "I wasn't sure...if you'd be comfortable, meeting openly."
"You fucked me on my desk..." It slipped out, his slurred voice incredulous. "...but you think I'd say no to a date?"
"Well...I am...older...and the new guy, who just...shat in the pool, by throwing Mr. Hotty-Popular-Guy Wilbur Soot out of his own country...and I'm not the handsomest guy on the server..." He motioned to his horns. "You know what it's like, to be different...or maybe you don't, since you can keep yours hidden...and...you look...freaking angelic..." His head lowered. "...which I certainly don't..."
Quackity's expression went from shock, to agreement, to sympathy, to anger. "Who the fuck..." He put a little too much emphasis on the last word, the shout actually enough to make Schlatt jump, sightly. "...told you that you aren't handsome as fuck?" He made up for alcohol-induced lack of eloquence with intensity.
"I'm sorry...I shouldn't be...airing my insecurities, when you already came here to work, under...less than honest circumstances..."
"You actually thought you had to come up with a bullshit reason, to get me to come over? God...seriously: who the hell fucked you up, that bad?" He took the hand that was over his, kissing it lightly before clasping it in both of his.
"I thought...you might want to hide...whatever this is, between us...because of what everyone else might think..." He managed to make his voice and his lower lip tremble, ever so slightly.
Quackity stared at him for another long moment, before using his captive hand to pull him close. Schlatt made a startled sound, as Quackity clearly overestimated his remaining strength and balance: they ended up with him lying on top of the smaller man, his arm hastily thrust under his head to prevent it from hitting the floor. Quackity bit his lip, then let go of Schlatt's other hand to grab him by the horns, holding his head still as he leaned up to kiss him. Schlatt moaned as Quackity's tongue probed his, his hands massaging his horns in a way that, applied to a different - and now, just as hard - part of his anatomy, would have had his balls emptying in a minute, at most: with one hand trapped beneath the younger man, he stared into Quackity's eyes, grabbed the front of his dress shirt, and yanked, sending buttons flying as the thin cloth tore. "I'll buy you a new one..." He promised, when he had to come up for breath.
"De nada..." Quackity's hands slid away from his horns, reaching for the soft sweater Schlatt had worn, to encourage petting: it distracted him, his hands caressing and bunching it for several moments, before he finally pulled it carefully up and over his horns. Finding Schlatt's chest bare beneath, he ran his nails over it, lightly, causing a full body shiver. "You...really planned this? To seduce me?"
"I made you a promise, earlier..." Schlatt wove his fingers through Quackity's thick hair, just enough to lightly pull it: when the younger man's lips parted as he gasped, he pressed his lips over them, his tongue making further promises of what he intended to do with other portions of their anatomy. Only when his partner's back arched, pressing their bare chests together with his need for air, did he pull back and continue. "Tonight...I'm going to make you scream my name." Quackity's body already heaving under his, from deep breaths that he was desperate for, but prevented from fully taking by Schlatt's weight on top of him, had him painfully hard: reaching down, he cupped Quackity's balls through his pants, and squeezed, nowhere near as gently as he had, before.
"Aaaaaahhhhhahhhhaaaaaaahhh..." Quackity's whole form pressed against his, and began to writhe.
Schlatt slowly, shakily pushed himself up. "Last chance...to come to your senses..." He stayed on the floor, but leaned back against the sofa.
Quackity rolled over with a feral growl. "Tease..." Crawling forward, he had Schlatt's belt unfastened before he made it all the way onto his lap. His hips moved as if he was dancing, as he kissed the older man hungrily, running his nails down his bare chest, refusing to let him pull away as he whimpered at the pain..and the desire: grinding against him, he let his fingers flatten, caressing their way down...and down...until his hands slid between cloth and flesh...
"Hnnnghhh..." Schlatt tossed his head back, as Quackity came up for air, plunging his hands into the feathers of his expanding wings: Quackity gave him only predatory eyes, and a quicksilver knowing smile, before lightly sinking his teeth into the meeting of Schlatt's neck and shoulder. "Ahhhaoww..."
"I'm not the only one...who can scream, tonight..." He kissed the pulse pounding in the other man's neck...then grazed it lightly, with his teeth. "Can you take as good as you give?" He kissed his way down, licking one of Schlatt's nipples to hardness, before tugging it gently with his teeth.
"Aaaaiiiii...ohh, god..." One hand left Quackity's wings, lightly grabbing a soft fistful of his hair.
"Mmmmmhhh...yeah, baby..." Quackity met his eyes, again, biting his lower lip as his grip tightened. "God, yes...I never thought..."
Schlatt stared into the burning darkness of his eyes. "You like having..." He carefully pulled Quackity's head back.
Quackity gasped, then moaned as Schlatt lightly bit his throat. "What the...fuck...why does that..."
Schlatt laughed, darkly, reaching for Quackity's belt, with his other hand. "Because..."
Quackity grabbed his hand, licking his wrist, before gently but insistently pushing it back, against the sofa cushions. "No...you spend all day having to be in charge...and apparently...no one's properly welcomed you..." He began kissing his way down Schlatt's chest, again...then his stomach...then made short work of freeing him from his pants: very lightly licking the head of the trembling shaft that almost sprang free, he gave Schlatt a wicked grin...and deep throated him, while staring up into his eyes.
"Ohhh, god...oh, sweet fucking Jesus...is...is this...your way...of making me pray?"
Quackity lightly swatted his thighs, allowing his eyes to become slightly cross...but didn't come up for air, just yet, noting the hard pulse that pounded through Schlatt's cock, and the spurt of precum it produced.
Schlatt gave a breathless, incredulous laugh. "We're having an illicit affair...I'm your boss...I'm older...and that's where you draw the line...?"
Quackity came up for air. "That's not praying, pendejo...don't be sacrilegious."
"I'm...sorry..."
Quackity grinned. "Oh, are you?" He grasped Schlatt's belt, slowly pulling it from the belt loops of his pants. "Turn around..."
"Wh...what..."
"Get on your knees...and bend over the sofa." Sliding back, he slowly stood, having to lean against the table. "Do it..." He pushed his pants down, stepping out of them to reveal his own rock hard member.
"Why..."
"Spare the rod...spoil the child..." He gave Schlatt a look that made him shiver, involuntarily, wrapping one hand around himself slowly and making a show of preparing himself.
Schlatt gave a soft whimper, and did as he asked, watching from over his shoulder as he approached, his own belt still held looped in his hand...his mind, fogged by alcohol and lust as it was, hadn't quite figured out what was happening...until the thick leather band left a burning trail across his ass. "Aaaaowww..."
"And you want my rod...don't you?" His voice was a seductive purr.
"God, yes..."
The belt left a second stinging imprint. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, I want you..."
Swat.
"Nnngh...yes...please?"
Quackity lightly ran a hand over the reddening flesh, making the slowly fading burning intensify, again. "That's closer..." This time, he used his hand, slapping both sides of Schlatt's rear. "...God, you have...such a spankable ass..." Staring at Schlatt's agitatedly twitching tail, he chuckled. "...that's...cute, actually..." Sliding his hands over smooth skin until it reached the beginnings of the fur that covered the ram hybrid's tail, he relished the unexpected softness of it.
Schlatt's whimper at that was genuine...and bordering on desperate.
Quackity raised an eyebrow. "Is it that sensitive..." His hand wrapped around the flailing appendage.
Schlatt's moan came out with a hint of a bleat: he turned beet red.
"I'll take that as a yes." Quackity pushed it gently up, eyeing the spasming opening beneath: rewarded with another soft bleat as his finger slowly slipped in, he caressed Schlatt's trembling ass. "Damn...you really haven't...done this, in a while, have you..."
"Please..." There was no tone to the whispered plea: Schlatt's fingers were digging into the sofa cushions.
Quackity caressed his tail with one hand, as he slid a second finger into him, teasing, massaging, stretching... "Jeez, baby...how can you be so tight, and so wet, at the same time?"
"I...I need..."
Something hard, hot and pulsing lightly smacked against Schlatt's abused flesh. "I've got what you need, right here." Quackity's voice was darkly possessive. "But..." He rested himself between Schlatt's upturned ass cheeks, as he ran teasing nails down his back. "...there's something I need from you, in return..."
"Hhhuh?!"
"Since you're obviously going to give me a lot..." He reached down, getting a tight grip on Schlatt's engorged member. "...a lot...to confess...you're coming with me, to pray about it."
"I..."
As he pulled his fingers slowly out of his new partner, Quackity's other hand tightened, causing Schlatt to push up off the sofa...resulting in his flesh sliding over the suddenly desperate to be filled spasming hole: he waited for Schlatt's keening moan to quit echoing around them, before continuing. "You want me on my knees...you have to get on yours: I'll scream your name, if you learn how to actually talk to God." Leaning down - pressing himself even harder against Schlatt's ass - he caressed Schlatt's now thoroughly disheveled hair, then trailed down his spine, to his tail. "Am I at least worth that, to you?"
"Yes...God, yes...if you want me to pray...if you want me to beg..." He half sobbed.
Quackity slowly moved his hips back, then forward, bringing his very ready cock into position. "Then get ready for something to fucking confess..." He pushed himself slowly into Schlatt, whose moan crescendoed into a sobbing plea, as the head finally fully breached the tight ring of muscle: catching his hips as they bucked back, trying to hasten his full entry, he laid a soft kiss over the already bruising mark his teeth had left in the flesh of Schlatt's neck. "Te voy a coher, Papi...be patient..." He continued his maddeningly slow progress: Schlatt was writhing beneath him, before he reached the thing inside that made his tight grip on the other man necessary, to keep him from coming, too early...which he reinforced, with a harder bite, over the first one. "Voy a hacer que se te olvide tu nombre..."
"Oh, god, oh fucking god..." He collapsed back onto the sofa cushions, beginning to whimper as Quackity began pulling back out...then yelping, as Quackity's hand abruptly left his shaft, joining the other to swat his ass.
"Naughty..." He thrust back in, and was rewarded with a scream as he hit Schlatt's prostate, hard...and began repeating the impact, only pulling out far enough to allow him to hit it again and again...
"Aaahhhahhhh...ahh...AHHH...ahh..ahh..ahh..ahhAHHahhHAAAAA..." Schlatt's shrieks of pleasure sounded closer to bleats the closer he came to climax.
Quackity timed his own release with the sounds of his partner losing any sense of control. "Hhh. Hhhhn....hhh..hhhnnn...me...vengo..." His scream joined Schlatt's, echoing off the walls: as his balls exploded, almost painfully hard, he gave one last thrust, sending the flood of come deep into Schlatt's quivering passage. The feeling of Quackity's cock slamming into his now inflamed sweet spot, then drowning it in what felt like an eruption of lava, finished him: his shrieks became strangled to the point of silence, as his own balls drained, painting his stomach and thighs, as well as the leather of the sofa. Quackity collapsed on top of him, for a long moment, then rolled off, crawling to his discarded pants: lighting two cigarettes once his hands quit shaking too hard, he held one out to Schlatt, who managed to slide down to recline on his side on the floor.
Taking the cigarette, he took a long drag, before he could find his voice. "Fucking...goddamn..."
Quackity gave him a narrow eyed glare that didn't match his self satisfied smirk. "Remember what you promised..."
The next morning...or rather, afternoon, Schlatt winced, as he slowly lowered himself into his chair. Wearing boxers and his loosest trousers had only helped so much: he'd spent as much of the late morning he'd been forced to salvage for a meeting - a half hour of torture, to approve things necessary to all of his plans - storming around ostensibly collecting necessary reports, while either nursing his hangover or trying to pretend he didn't have one...but then...then he'd had to sit at the head of the table, trying not to stare at his vice president, whose five o'clock shadow and slightly sunken and therefor shadowed eyes only made him sexier...
His. Ass. Hurt.
He hadn't expected Quackity to be into that...
...which is why he was now conflicted: he really wanted to reassert his dominance, but...if he made it seem like Quackity was really in charge...he'd make the perfect fall guy...but...
He really didn't want to give up his new toy...or the image of total control, and if he played the submissive partner, especially complete with displays of affection, Dream would likely feel emboldened enough to try and use Quackity against him...even if he knew the entirety of Schlatt's plan.
No. Quackity needed to stay...under him. In so many ways.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the younger man pushed the office door open, and managed to make it to his desk with a cup of coffee. "I needed a little pick me up, after last night...figured you might, too."
Schlatt grunted his thanks, and took a sip...somehow, Quackity had got the mix just how he liked it. "Sorry I forgot about the meeting, when I dragged you over..."
Quackity smirked. "Yeah...I totally didn't sleep like a fucking rock..."
"Really?"
Quackity glanced towards the mostly closed door, then leaned in. "I think...we've both been avoiding the truth...because dealing with it is going to be messy...unless..."
"Unless?" Raising an eyebrow, he shifted uncomfortably.
"Well...you did make me a promise, last night...do you remember?"
Schlatt groaned. "The last thing I want to do, is sit my ass on a wooden bench, and look like an idiot..."
"No...I get that, and I meant it, when I said that I'd help you learn the prayers, first...which is sort of why I really stopped by..." He blushed. "Things are quiet, for now...half the staff is gone, for a late lunch...this is...usually when I'd take a few minutes and pray on things..."
Schlatt shifted, again. "Things...like what?"
"Well...if we hadn't already figured out the security thing, before we...uhm...got distracted, last night...like that."
"Did we figure it out?"
"I'm going to ask Niki...and you could ask Tubbo, if he's heard from Tommy..."
"I...maybe...I'll schedule a lunch meeting with him, tomorrow...or something."
"Okay, then - that means you have time today to start learning the words to prayers."
Schlatt raised an eyebrow. "You're really serious, about that..."
"Yeah. And you promised."
"I could make a case about that being coerced..." He met Quackity's gaze, quickly raising a hand to hold off any response, upon seeing the hint of dejected defeat behind his eyes. "...but...I did promise...and...if it's this important, to you..."
The hope shining in his eyes wasn't hidden, at all. "I just...I think it'll help you. A lot. And I'd like to see you find the same peace it gives me."
"Okay, okay..."
He grinned. "Come with me back to my office, then."
Schlatt laughed...but mirth and smile disappeared, as he stood. "Ugh...getting old sucks..."
Quackity smirked. "You're not old...you just..." He leaned close enough for his whisper to warm the bite marks Schlatt had hidden beneath a high collar. "...hadn't been railed, in a while..." His voice raised as he backed up, again. "...need some practice."
Schlatt shivered, but managed to keep his voice and expression normal. "Okay. Fine. Let's go practice."
Instead of using the small closet in his office as an actual closet, like Schlatt, Quackity had turned his into a small chapel: a prayer bench, useful only with the door opened, faced a shelf with a large icon, a small candle, and a simple incense burner. "See? Discreet, private...no one will hear you practicing the prayers, until you're ready to actually come to Church Prime, with me."
"Okay...why don't you...do whatever you do, and I'll watch from behind, this time?"
Quackity nodded, and knelt on the cushioned part of the prayer bench: Schlatt knelt behind him, the bench making up for their height difference allowing the other man to lean back and rest his head on Schlatt's shoulder - the one he hadn't left bite marks on. He gave a contented sigh, and began saying words he'd clearly spoken many, many times... Schlatt listened: in truth, he remembered the words to the prayers he'd learned in childhood, he just hadn't ever meant to use them, again - but his hands, though far from being idle, were intent on the devil's work, while Quackity was intent on his lesson. He was able to get both of their belts unfastened, before the other man realized what he was doing.
"What..."
"Keep praying." Pulling off his tie, he wrapped it around Quackity's wrists and clasped hands, tying it just tightly enough to keep him from being able to escape.
"Schlatt...this..."
"I may not remember every last word from last night..." Schlatt growled seductively, in his ear. "...but I do seem to recall you being very concerned that there was...a certain reciprocity, between prayer time and the times we worship each other..." As he spoke, he slid a hand into Quackity's pants, gently rolling his balls in his hands. "...well: since God infringed on my time...it's only fair that I get some of his..." Rising slightly, he let his pants fall down to his knees, as his other hand began pulling Quackity's dress shirt free. "...and trust me: this will make this lesson...very, very memorable." Sliding his hand under the newly freed shirt, he began playing with Quackity's wings, which tensed and trembled, straining against the thin cloth.
"Schlaaaaaa...aaaat..." Quackity's protest became a long moan: he turned beet red. "...what if...someone hears...?"
"You said it yourself: most of them are gone." No one to come to the rescue... "And if they hear you praying...they won't interrupt, now, will they?" Quackity whimpered, as Schlatt's hand caressed over his thigh, his hip, then down his ass cheek, pausing for a hard pinch. Schlatt chuckled darkly. "If you're so worried about the others figuring things out...why did you leave me feeling like I'm fucking sitting on a barbed wire fence?" Feeling Quackity's breath catch, as his fingers slid between his ass cheeks, he leaned forward, to growl in his ear. "It was part of your little plan to get me on my knees, wasn't it?" He very slowly inserted just the very tip of a finger, just barely opening Quackity's trembling ass, only to find him already slick. "Well...apparently God saw fit to answer your prayers from last night...so...why don't you tell him what you want me to do to you?" He pushed his finger in, to the first knuckle.
Quackity whimpered, again, tensing as he was clearly contemplating either pulling away...or pushing himself back. "This...this is..."
"I bet you don't even have to use words, and he'll understand you - that's how prayer's supposed to work, right?"
"No...I mean...yes...but...this....fuuuuck..."
"I knew that's what you wanted..." Schlatt slid the rest of his finger in, very lightly tapping the spot he knew would end Quackity's arguments. "...you see? It must be divine inspiration..." He began fingering his partner, hitting all the right spots - every last one he'd discovered, the night of the election: when Quackity had to lean forward, bracing himself on the wall, he added a second finger, and was rewarded with a strangled moan muffled by the younger man having to bite his own arm to keep from screaming. "...because I am feeling...very inspired..." His hand slid down from Quackity's wings: gripping the waistband of his pants in a tight fist, he pulled them slowly down, discovering that Quackity had foregone underwear, entirely. He chuckled. "Did I leave you...a little tender?"
"MmmhhmmmMMM..." Quackity's moaned response intensified as Schlatt's fingers sped up, sliding in and out of his very ready hole.
"Well then...shall we discuss divine justice? An eye for an eye...an ass for an ass..." He added a third finger...which kept his fingertips just slightly away from where Quackity was now desperate to be touched. "But...I don't hear you praying...and I'm just a wretched sinner - how is God going to direct my actions, if you don't tell him what you want?"
After a short stunned silence, Quackity began uttering the words, again - with his shirt sleeve still clenched between his teeth.
Schlatt rewarded him, pushing more of his fingers' length inside, and stirring his flowing juices. Reaching around with his other hand, he slowly wrapped his fingers one at a time around the hardening shaft, causing Quackity's back to arch, and his recitation to falter, as his head ended up cradled against the bite marks he'd left, the night before: Schlatt's breath hissed through his teeth, at the slight pain. "You're not praying..."
Quackity's voice went from a strangled whisper to a keening moan as he obeyed.
Feeling the shaft he was milking begin to get hotter and harder, he began pumping it, distracting Quackity from his withdrawing fingers, elsewhere: his cock easily slid in to replace them, bringing a startled wail. Quackity leaned forward, again biting his own arm. "Did I say to quit praying?"
He managed a few barely recognizable words, moaned between his teeth against his own flesh, interrupted by a sob as Schlatt's grip on his member held him back from pushing his hips into the other man's, to massage his prostate against his knob...then more, as Schlatt began softly saying the words, next to his ear...with his tone shifting between endearment, and a more forceful, dominant one, that left him so hard that his vision was blurring at the edges...purposefully...?...screwing up a line every so often, so Quackity would force his own voice to work, again, for words... He could barely feel his shaking legs, through the pulsing, almost painful desire building between...his consciousness was slipping, leaving him existing in the mind numbing, building pleasure...but the part of him still present was still scandalized, that he was allowing this to happen to him, in his chapel...and...he was praying...praying, while being railed by his boss, in his own office...
He came so hard that his vision faded to black, for...a very long moment? Several minutes? As he came back down from the high, he felt Schlatt bury himself deeply, and a delicious fullness spreading into his very core...Schlatt's voice...the words didn't register, but the tone was...gentle...almost...loving? ...as he withdrew, carefully cleaning him off. He almost sobbed again, at the feeling of Schlatt's come flowing back out of him, wanting the full feeling to stay... Schlatt's arms wrapped around him, and they ended up snuggled on the floor, using the prayer bench's cushion for a pillow...which meant they were literally facing each other so close that they were breathing the same air...the scent of whiskey and tobacco suddenly more pleasant to him, than any incense...
Schlatt smiled, shakily, then wove his fingers through Quackity's now sweat dampened hair, and pulled him into a deep kiss. "I think...I'm going to enjoy church, so much more, as an adult..."