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It’s a cold night. Dragonspine drops to below freezing in the winter, and it’s hard to regulate the heat on a good day. Albedo has been attempting to keep the fire going for the last twenty minutes, trying to heat up the workshop cave.
He’s alone, and has been for the past hour, but when he senses a presence behind him, he squints into the fire. He knows exactly who it is, which is why he doesn’t move until he absolutely has to. There’s a long stretch of tension, just waiting to snap before he goes tumbling over the floor of his lab when the man jumps at him, Scaramouche throwing his hat to the side to properly tussle.
The movement kicks up dirt everywhere, soft grunts escaping their lips as they wrestle. Albedo can’t summon his sword when he’s preoccupied and Scaramouche can’t summon much of anything but he still raises up, straddling Albedo with his thighs, his hands over his head. He attempts to summon a ball of electricity, only for Albedo to throw him off his hips and pin his hands to the ground when he falls on his back.
Scaramouche struggles, his fingers twitching. He gives up quite abruptly, staring up at Albedo with a smirk. “Better,” he chuckles, even though his chest is heaving a little bit. “I only had a seventy or so percent chance of killing you.”
“Must you always come and leave such a mess?” Albedo huffs, ignoring his comment. Seventy percent, his ass. Try thirty and that’s still being generous. He stands up, helping Scaramouche to his feet, their hands lingering for a moment before they break the contact.
“I didn’t break anything,” Scaramouche scoffs, grabbing his hat and dusting it off. “Don’t complain so much. You know how hard it is for me to come see you.”
“Only because it’s impossible for me to come see you.”
Scaramouche is a traveller with no known address; meeting with him is hard with Albedo’s schedule and even harder considering Scaramouche is never in the same spot. But, both of them are more than okay to meet in Dragonspine, leaving Scaramouche to make the trek whenever he pleases since it’s always likely Albedo is here.
It’s been a few months since they last saw each other. Albedo has been working on new paintings, commissions he hasn’t finished. It’s been difficult for him to focus, especially with Scaramouche here now.
Albedo watches him study the paintings set up on all the easels with his hands on his hips. There’s a short pause before he simply says, “You can paint faster than this.”
“I know that,” Albedo mutters, dusting off his hands. He leans on the desk, crossing his arms. Scaramouche pins him with a look, smirking. “Don’t, Scaramouche. Not tonight. I’m not in the mood for you to berate me even if you’re just joking around.”
“Fine,” he relents, throwing his hands up. He steps over to Albedo anyway, purple eyes pretty in the firelight. Albedo gazes at him, taking in his features for a few moments before he looks away, right when Scaramouche shoots him a glare.
“You’re annoyed,” he says and Albedo sighs, tossing his head back. “Or frustrated. Are you going to spit it out or should I start pissing you off?”
“I am not frustrated,” Albedo answers, lifting his hand to Scaramouche’s face, taking in his eyes. “Not by you. Just from daily life. Work and such, but nothing that needs to be discussed.” They have an unspoken rule for each other - no shop talk. Albedo doesn’t bore Scaramouche with his experiments unless he’s interested and Scaramouche doesn’t talk about the Fatui, or lack thereof now that he’s left them.
“You couldn’t be frustrated by me,” Scaramouche smirks, pressing his face into Albedo’s hand. “I just got here. And, only half attempted to kill you so I’m not even on thin ice yet.”
Albedo hums, closing his eyes for a moment. He’s not tired, per se, but today was definitely a whirlwind so he feels a little defeated. He only opens his eyes when he feels Scaramouche’s breath against his lips, their eyes meeting.
“Can I kiss you?” Scaramouche whispers, his eyes searching Albedo’s. He takes a moment to admire their depths, like amethyst crystals glittering in the moonlight. Albedo smiles, unable to stop himself. Scaramouche doesn’t always ask but he never does something Albedo won’t like; the respect comes easily, even if it’s unspoken.
Scaramouche leaves his hat on the benchtop behind Albedo and reaches for him, slipping his hands into his hair. There’s some movement that Scaramouche masks by controlling the kiss, nipping at Albedo’s lip as he unties his hair. While he’s never told Albedo, the alchemist knows he likes him with his hair down. It falls around his shoulders, the longer pieces framing his face as they untangle from the braids by themselves.
Scaramouche rakes his hair back, gasping into his mouth when Albedo pulls him in by his waist. Albedo pulls off his gloves quickly to thumb Scaramouche’s lip, shiny with their shared saliva. He is beautiful, all flushed like that; Albedo would paint him, if Scaramouche was a good model but he’s not one to sit still for long enough.
“Cocky asshole,” Scaramouche mutters when Albedo smirks at him, his thoughts racing. He wraps his lips around Albedo’s thumb anyway, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of his. Albedo feels a spike of heat in his gut, the air around them twisting into something darker, filled with tension as their demeanors change. So much for worrying about the fire.
“Kunikizushi,” Albedo mutters, fitting his hand against the small of Scaramouche’s back. “Strip. I don’t want clothes in the way of the marks I’ll leave on your skin.” He turns without waiting for Scaramouche’s response, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders. He knows Scaramouche likes his shoulders, but just like he is about his hair, he has neither confirmed or denied the fact verbally, at least.
“You think you can boss me around?” Scaramouche whispers, his tone dark, almost growling. Albedo feels his hands slip around his waist and into his pants. He doesn’t do anything other than that but it still makes Albedo straighten up, smiling to himself.
“I believe I can,” he answers, “because you’ll do what I tell you to. You like it when I tell you what to do, even if you won’t admit it.” He looks over his shoulder, right into Scaramouche’s cat-like eyes and smirks. “Now, go to my bed and strip.”
Scaramouche scoffs but he pulls away, dropping his clothes as he heads to the bed. He has to sit down to take off his shoes, so Albedo takes that pause to do the same, pulling off his shirt too. He tucks his hair behind his ears to get it out of the way. It’s too long to leave it down like this, but he’ll indulge Scaramouche, like he always does. He crosses the workshop floor to Scaramouche once he’s put his clothes away, taking in his naked form, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He’s beautiful, but that’s no surprise. His skin is unblemished, unbroken, except for the scar at the nape of his neck that creeps over his shoulder. Albedo has always loved it, tracing over it every chance he can get. The repetitive movements often lulls Scaramouche to sleep, no matter the time of day. Today, however, he wants him to stay awake, at least for now.
“Cold?” he asks and Scaramouche shakes his head, sending a few sparks of electro to the fire just to stoke up the heat. Dragonspine is a cold son of a bitch; Albedo knows that very well, despite not having to regulate his body temperature. Scaramouche has to, despite being artificially created, hence the question. The flames spark like fireworks with Scaramouche’s electricity, painting the walls with a beautiful sunset hue.
“Not that it will matter,” he whispers, pulling Albedo on top of him as he falls back on the bed. He smiles as Albedo pushes the rest of his bangs out of his eyes, surprisingly tender. “Falling in love with me, alchemist?”
“Love is a human concept,” Albedo whispers, just for Scaramouche to hear. They’ve had this conversation many times, like an inside joke for the two of them. “Have you fallen for me?”
“We’re not human,” Scaramouche returns, blinking at him. Despite the comment, Albedo feels hot where their bodies are touching, drawing a strange happiness from him. “But, we can pretend we are. So, are you going to fuck me, or are we going to keep talking?”
Albedo squints at him. How romantic. “You do have a way with words.”
“I’ll sound better when I’m sucking your cock.”
Albedo clicks his tongue, drawing back as Scaramouche lunges at him, grinning at him. He manages to straddle Albedo’s thighs, Albedo’s back flat against the bed, smirking like he has control of the situation. His eyes glint like a predator as he lays over him, their chests pressing together; it makes Albedo’s stomach churn with anticipation, knowing that look means Scaramouche will make their night worth it.
“Not tonight,” he says, sudden, and Albedo raises his brows, prompting him. Scaramouche grips his jaw, angling his face to bite at his ear, forcing Albedo’s hands to jump to his hips from the sudden sting.
“Kunikizushi,” he warns, slowly. “Watch your teeth.”
“Why?” Scaramouche’s voice sounds way too cocky for the position they’re in right now but there’s no chance Albedo will stop him unless he really gets out of hand. It’s Scaramouche; it’s well within his nature to be cocky because what’s the point of being powerful if you don’t flaunt it in some way?
Albedo looks at him for a few seconds before he pinches Scaramouche’s hip. The man seizes up like a cat with its hackles up, shoving at Albedo’s chest as he mutters to himself. “Fine,” he hisses and leans forward, his ass a little in the air. Albedo runs his hands down his thighs, watching him closely.
“Hold me,” Scaramouche demands, and Albedo only has a second before he’s leaning completely over to the side to grab the vials that are scattered on the small table next to the bed. He draws back, four vials in his hands and reads some of the labels, snorting at them.
“Geo resonance potion… Electro… Hm, fitting for us.” He gently drops those two on the floor, out of the way before looking at the others. “Ah, perfect,” he says, shaking a vial of clear gel-like liquid. “Hand.”
Albedo holds out his hand, so Scaramouche uncorks the vial and dumps some of it onto his fingers. With his clean hand, he holds Scaramouche closer to him, smirking when Scaramouche’s breath hitches when the lube touches his cock.
“Not what I wanted,” he mumbles, but as Albedo watches his face, he can see all the minute flickers of lust and pleasure in his eyes. He slowly strokes up from the base to the tip, making Scaramouche sigh, slipping his hand over Albedo’s shoulder as he slowly cants his hips into his grip.
“Then, what do you want?” Albedo asks, the heat of the fire forgotten as their naked skin warms with their touches.
“I want you to stretch me…” Scaramouche answers, his voice quiet. Albedo hums, drawing his hand away. He hikes Scaramouche up by his hip, spreading his legs further on his lap so his knees spread further on the bed. He circles his rim, chuckling at Scaramouche’s grimace.
“I’m going slow,” he announces and Scaramouche rolls his eyes. He’s always catty but when things don’t go his way, he can throw an intense tantrum. Even then, if it’s Albedo indulging him, he tends to be less demanding. Albedo can switch very easily to cruel and conceited, even if Scaramouche drools over that like the freak he is.
He’ll probably get Albedo to that point tonight. Both of them will enjoy either way, so the foreplay leading to it is just a taste of what will come. Albedo already wants to make Scaramouche cry, knowing how pretty he looks with his eyelashes clumped, messy and emotional.
For now, he eases one finger down to the second knuckle, making Scaramouche hum, pressing back until his finger sinks fully into him. Albedo works him open, twisting his wrist as Scaramouche relaxes, clenching around his finger to urge another in.
“Hurry up,” Scaramouche snaps after a short while, glaring at him, digs his nails into Albedo’s shoulder. For that, Albedo sinks his teeth into Scaramouche’s neck, like he did before, just to make him yelp. “Fuck! You watch your teeth!”
“Don’t rush me,” he hisses back, fitting two fingers inside and scoffing at the hitch in Scaramouche’s breath. He’s taken much more than two fingers, but it’s always easy to reduce him to a puddle of moans and shivers. Albedo is always smug that he can achieve such a thing with just his fingers, and have Scaramouche begging for more.
“Relax,” he whispers, right into Scaramouche’s ear, just to be a pain. He sighs, doing as he’s told with some reluctance. “Hm, that was simple. You want this really bad?”
“Fuck you,” he answers, his voice cracking halfway through the phrase. If he’s already this shaky, Albedo wonders how far he can go to make Scaramouche cry and gasp for the attention he desperately wants from him.
Albedo pumps his fingers in and out shallowly, scissoring them as he does so. He smiles devilishly at Scaramouche’s moans. He really is cute, especially like this. Albedo busies his mouth with the skin at his neck, nipping and sucking as best he can, leaving marks that will match the colour of Scaramouche’s burn scar. He’ll cover them up but Albedo knows Scaramouche loves his baths so by the time he returns to his own privacy, the marks will decorate his skin. Maybe Albedo will leave some on his thighs, just for Scaramouche to see.
It only takes another few minutes for Scaramouche to dig his nails in Albedo’s shoulder again, demanding for him to slip another finger inside. Just to be an asshole, he scissors his fingers and crooks them too quickly for Scaramouche to adjust. The man yelps, a moan ripping from his throat, covering his mouth too late, staring at the wall with wide eyes.
Albedo shifts beneath him and twists his wrist, back to being meticulous. Scaramouche melts in his lap, rocking back and forth when Albedo doesn’t go deep enough. “Not enough,” he whispers, breathless, making Albedo smile. “Come on-”
“Don’t rush me,” he repeats as Scaramouche shakes his head, gripping Albedo’s neck. “No? I guess I’ll just sit back and relax-”
“Don’t you dare,” Scaramouche spits, raking his nails down Albedo’s chest. His eyes are alight, full of purple fire. Albedo feels his resolve simply melt away, charmed by that look. Maybe he’s the one that folds too easy.
He decides Scaramouche is ready when he gets restless and keeps trying to fuck Albedo’s fingers back inside him. Albedo pauses for a moment before he looks down at his bed. Scaramouche shivers in his grasp as he moves, their position a little hard to manage but it’s essentially the same.
He manages to get Scaramouche in his lap, pulling him in. Scaramouche looks down, blinking. “What are you…” he wonders as Albedo runs his fingers up his ribs.
“Ride me,” he instructs, giving Scaramouche no time to prepare before he’s sliding his cock inside him. He bottoms out easily, Scaramouche’s hole still all slick from the lube. Scaramouche tenses up, a moan escaping him, unable to cover his mouth with his hands clenching and unclenching on Albedo’s chest. Albedo raises up and buries his grin into his shoulder, pleased.
“I want to hear you,” he says in a whisper. That’s why they’re in this position, after all. He wants to see Scaramouche do all the work, taking his pleasure all by himself. Albedo wraps one hand around Scaramouche’s cock, holding it loosely as his thumb circles around one of Scaramouche’s nipples, his pal laying over his ribs. Scaramouche’s breath stutters, hips jumping into Albedo’s hand.
“Albedo,” Scaramouche struggles, prompting Albedo to finally pinch his nipple, the man throwing his head back as he pants, his cock jumping at the movement. “Ah… Ugh, wait, can you-” Albedo intends to ignore him, but hisses when Scaramouche tightens around him, glaring up at him. “Yeah, I can still- Shit- Affect you.”
“Not by much,” he manages, trying to sound unbothered even if he’s unable to hide the strain in his voice. Scaramouche chuckles, breathless and irresistible. Albedo bounces him in his lap to make him shut up. He wants Scaramouche to chase his pleasure but Albedo does what he can to torture Scaramouche, tugging at his nipple and whispering in his ear.
“Al-Albedo, wait,” Scaramouche blurts, bottoming out completely as he sits on his cock. He lifts himself slowly, drawing away from Albedo, enough to make his cock slip out, making Scaramouche shiver. Albedo breathes shallowly, the cold air hitting him cruelly, but Scaramouche is back on him in an instant, going slow to make Albedo feel everything inside him. The heat, the tightness, all of it .
“You were stupid to think- Ah- that you could control me like that.” He gives himself a moment before he lifts up and slams back down, choking the breath out of Albedo in the process. Scaramouche grins at him, sharp teeth glinting in the light of the fire.
“If you can do all the work,” Albedo sighs, staring up at him, “do it.” It’s what he wanted the whole time but he’s not going to admit that. If he does, Scaramouche won’t do it. He likes to think he’s in control.
Scaramouche raises his eyebrows, obviously taking that as a challenge, using Albedo to chase his own pleasure. Exactly what he wanted. It works for a little while, Scaramouche bouncing on his cock, circling his hips, but he’s not loud enough, in Albedo’s opinion. So, he grabs him by the hips, pulling him forward. He plants his feet on the bed, Scaramouche’s eyes going wide before Albedo fucks up into him, straight into his prostate.
Scaramouche gasps, attempting to cover his mouth but Albedo eases him down, letting him have the control again. Scaramouche’s hands are still on Albedo’s chest, blinking down at him with a flush all over his skin. “Kiss me,” he says before Albedo can and ah, that’s the least he can do. They moan when their tongues press together; Scaramouche cups Albedo’s face hurriedly, turning it how he wants so he can control the kiss.
Albedo shifts, unsettling Scaramouche enough to make him squeak out a noise into his mouth. It drives him forward, making him grip Scaramouche’s hips and fuck up into him, startling more noises out of him until all they can do is pant into each other’s mouth, too sloppy to properly kiss.
“When you- ah, yes-” Scaramouche stutters, but doesn’t continue. Albedo has found his prostate again and nails right into it, making his eyes roll. When he starts begging, Albedo lets up, wrapping his hand around his cock. Scaramouche almost whines when Albedo squeezes around the base, making him curl over himself to watch his hand move as his hips move, almost involuntarily. The heat is heavy, thick and comes off them in dense waves. Albedo likes it, likes the sight of Scaramouche’s hair sticking to his forehead. It’s just another thing that makes them almost human.
They’re both impostors in different ways. When they’re together, they act as human as they can because they’re the only ones that would be able to pick up on their fake behaviour. Albedo pushes Scaramouche’s bangs out of his eyes, noticing that there’s tears lining his lashes. He kisses them away, making Scaramouche scoff at him.
Just for that sound, Albedo pulls out and sets him on his back, startling him. “Wait,” he says but Albedo ignores him, and sets his own pace, his feet slipping into the sheets before he gets his footing, lifting Scaramouche’s hips as he fucks into him.
Scaramouche’s back arches. All Albedo can hear is the sound of skin against skin. His partner pants, twisting in the sheets as Albedo pounds into him, staring down at him, eyes wide with wonder.
“Albedo!” he snaps when Albedo slows down, dragging out his thrusts, even if he nails into him with accuracy, straight into his prostate. He smirks at the sound Scaramouche makes, refusing to give him control.
Scaramouche turns his head to the side, eyes on the fire as he pants, his face flushed and fucked out. Albedo feels heat coiling in his gut, so he takes a breath, and begins to jackhammer into him. Scaramouche mewls, his throat bobbing as he tries to swallow the drool in his mouth.
Scaramouche tries to warn him of his impending orgasm, but Albedo is close too, his mind too focused on his own pleasure as he fucks into Scaramouche. He would usually pull out but Scaramouche pins him with a lustful glare and demands, “Come inside me,” and Albedo groans, unable to refuse, fucking into him until he releases, filling Scaramouche up just like he asked.
“Wait, don’t-” Scaramouche pants, when Albedo goes to slip his cock out of his hole, his stomach jumping as his cock twitches. “Don’t pull out- Just make me come.”
Albedo can feel him clenching, driving him into oversensitivity but all it takes is him wrapping a hand around his cock, squeezing once before Scaramouche comes up all his stomach, his back arching again. He whines high in his throat; the sound is enough to make Albedo’s cock throb weakly. He leans completely over Scaramouche, slapping his hand around the bed.
“Plug…?” he whispers right as Albedo pulls out a plug that he’s lucky none of his assistants have seen. Scaramouche, as cock-stupid as he is, smirks at it. Albedo pulls out, making both of them grimace. He fits the plug inside, twisting it a few times to hear Scaramouche moan from oversensitivity, though he relents when he shoves him with his knee.
“Happy now?” Albedo asks, cocking an eyebrow. Scaramouche only makes grabby hands for him instead, insistent.
“Keeping me stretched for you can fuck me in the morning?” he says as Albedo pulls him up and lays him down on the pillows, slotting himself behind him so they can watch the fire.
“Aren’t you clever? You asked for it though, so don’t act cocky.” Albedo kisses the burn scar, making Scaramouche shiver against him, goosebumps erupting all over his skin. “I’ll fuck you before anyone comes up. You said you’d suck my cock, too.”
“It fits into my schedule,” Scaramouche snarks, looking at him with sly eyes. “Does it fit into yours , chief alchemist?”
Albedo hums, kissing the scar again just to make Scaramouche’s expression melt. Their skin is still flushed and sweaty but they both don’t mind. They like it, honestly. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if it didn’t.”
It’s warm, warm enough for them not to need a blanket so Albedo wraps his arms around Scaramouche and pulls him in, nipping at his ear. Scaramouche hums at him, settling into his hold. Just for tonight, the world doesn’t feel like it's against them.
Come tomorrow, the world will still be there, against them both. Who cares? Albedo kisses him, sleep coming to them easily.