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It was a blur of dizzying heat as Scott suddenly pulled him forward and pushed Pyro into his room, the sharp chill of Scott's gloved hand on his wrist occasionally cutting through the sizzling warmth of his body. Pyro stumbled into the room with a yelp, barely turning around in time to watch Scott slam the door shut and lock it.
“What— what the fuck was that?!” Pyro shrieked out in an unholy pitch — he must’ve looked as flushed as he felt, with what felt like fire tearing through his flesh and prickling at his skin.
He staggers backwards until his calves hit the edge of the bed, eyes wide and throat dry as Scott closes the distance, staring him down thoughtfully, yet with an expression that made it seem like he wasn't really in the room with Pyro.
“You don't want this?” Scott asks, voice unnaturally hoarse as he presses closer, and— well. Pyro doesn't exactly know how he manages to shake his head, or specifically why he does, but before he knows it Scott is pushing him down into the bed, dragging him up the bed and pressing him into the sheets with a hazy look in his eyes.
“Woah woah— shit— Scott!” He yelps, scrambling on the sheets like a fish stranded on a riverbank as Scott starts pulling at his clothes, managing to get his vest open and his belt half off before Pyro can stop him.
“What do you want now?” Scott glares, and Pyro nearly wants to scoff. What does he want?
“What the fuck are you doing?!” They yell, and Scott rolls his eyes like they’re being unreasonable and stupid.
“I'm going to fuck you. Was that not clear from the start?” Scott asks rhetorically like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Pyro does scoff at that.
“Who decided that?” He sneered even as he began to kick off his boots and shuffle around until Scott could pull his belt and vest from under him and toss it off the bed.
Pyro was about to complain about his clothes being thrown to the dirty floor until Scott is pulling both his pants and undergarments down in one quick and fluid motion. Surprisingly he's already fully hard, and he doesn't doubt that Scott didn’t fail to take notice either.
“Oh, I'm sorry, guess I forgot to consult the gods with a live sacrifice at the high altar of Yngya for guidance.” The blonde scoffs, pulling back to take off his gloves and kick off boots as Pyro worked on his own cuffs, setting it down on the floor with more care than Scott's cape that was quickly thrown to the floor with the other clothing articles.
“Are you still on that?” Noticing how Scott stares down at his body has Pyro instinctively pulling his knees close, which is not very successful with the other man in between his legs. Attempting to regain some dignity, he tugs the hem of his shirt down and quickly changes the topic, “Really, I thought after all these years you would be better at staying on track. Guess I was wrong about you Boralith, as I always am, apparently.”
He smirks at the narrowed glare he receives, knowing he's hit the mark. As Scott opens his mouth to retort — a quip on the tip of his tongue, his hands find a tight grip on Pyro's thighs, and he's interrupted as they both let out twin gasps, sharp and shocked.
Pyro shivers, thighs quivering and erection flagging from the frigid touch that shoots up his spine and to his fingertips. He scrambles to prop himself on his elbows, drawing his legs close and high as Scott jolts back like he'd been burnt.
It's as if Scott dropped an ice block into a warm hearth — a thin mist of warm steam surrounding them before quickly dissipating into the high ceiling.
“What the hell?” Scott murmurs, drawing Pyro gaze and attention back to the other man, finding him staring at his own hands like he doesn't recognize them.
“Are you okay? Did it hurt you?” He's moving before he's thinking, sitting up and leaning towards where Scott kneeled at the end of the bed. Pyro's hands twitch at his sides, itching to reach forward in search of that blinding chill once more.
“No, no. I'm fine—” Scott's hand halts mid air, aborting the instinctive action to push Pyro away and press him down again. Where its hovering right over his chest, Pyro can feel the frigid air around Scott's hand like a balm to his heated skin.
“You're sure?” Pyro doesn't wait for a reply, already moving to slowly grab the man's wrist by the cuff of his sleeve, gingerly pulling the hand closer. He's met with little to no resistance, just hesitation as he pulls and pulls until Scott's fingers brush against his bare chest.
Despite both their shivers, Pyro doesn't stop until Scott's hand is pressed firmly against his sternum, fingers tips splayed on his collarbones. He knows Scott's gaze is flicking from his chest to his face but doesn't dare look up, instead carefully pulling Scott's sleeve up and wrapping his hands around the freezing skin of his forearm.
Only when Scott shivers again does Pyro risk a glance at the other's face, finding his features all scrunched up, brows knitted in concentration and observation the same way they used to when Scott was in charge of striking the flint and tinder for the bonfire.
Pyro quickly looks down again before Scott can catch his gaze, putting one hand on top of the one on his chest while using the other one on Scott's forearm to pull the blonde forward as he inched backwards. Scott quickly catches on, all but crawling on his knees to follow Pyro until they're on their back again, and this time without restraint.
“Impatient much,” Scott swats away Pyro's hand when it moves to tug at his pants, drawing a huff from the brunette, “I'll get to it.”
“Me? I'm the impatient one? When you tore off the rest of my clothes the moment I was on your bed like some horny beast in rut?” Scott doesn't bother with a response, choosing to just roll his eyes before he drags his hand down Pyro's chest, undoing every button along the way until he lifts his hand to ghost over the start of the dark bush of wiry hair between their legs.
Pyro grumbles when those cold hands trace their way back to his chest, pointedly ignoring Scott's chuckles as he cups the brunette's face, tracing the scar on his face that trailed down his forehead to his jaw like a particularly interesting map. Scott's other free hand works to rid Pyro of their shirt, and helping by moving their arms isn't as much of a distraction Pyro hoped for.
“What are you doing? Get on with it.” Pyro huffed again, throwing his shirt to the floor himself, except this time Scott just hums, fingering the uneven skin around his eye.
“I think I'll take my time,” Scott murmured, dragging the other icy hand on his chin up to fidget with Pyro's bottom lip with his thumb. The contact makes him shudder and turn away, but his attempt is futile with Scott's arms caging him in.
He's not an idiot. He knows exactly what Scott's doing, or well, trying to do, if the hesitation on the other man's face means anything more than his inexperience. Pyro sighs and forces his teeth to part, letting the digit sink past his lips and press down on his tongue experimentally. Scott quickly switches to press his pointer and middle finger into his mouth, and Pyro carefully watches the way Scott shivers as he begins to suck.
They do this song and dance for some time, with Pyro narrowing his eyes judgementally every time Scott nudges another finger into his mouth. It's almost funny how focused the blonde looked, brows furrowed again as if he's trying to memorize the way Pyro's lips wrap around his fingers — tracing teeth, pallet, and tongue.
Pyro gets bored pretty quickly, and deciding Scott's had enough fun, they spit out his fingers and wipe away the drool around his mouth as Scott stares at his drool-slick fingers curiously.
“I don't think this will work.” The blonde mutters, and Pyro just rolls his eyes. He doesn't care how Scott learnt how to prep —probably with expensive oils on a plush mattress— but they don't have the luxury of finding lube right now, not when Pyro's still rock hard with Scott right there between his legs doing nothing but look at him, barely touching him at all.
“It's worked for me before. Why? Too afraid to get your hands dirty?” He smirks at the sharp look sent his way, but it's quickly wiped away by his own yelp as Scott grabs his hips and flips him over too quickly for him to react in time.
“Do you ever get tired of your own voice?” Scott sighs as he forcefully drags Pyro's hips up to force him on his knees. Pyro attempts to push himself up with his arms but is quickly subdued with a hiss with a firm hand on his back shoving him down into the sheets.
“I know I get tired of yours.” Pyro grunts, wriggling under Scott as he's reminded exactly how bare he is in front of the other man when the other hand presses into the burning skin of his ass, kneading at soft flesh before striking him harshly and drawing an embarrassingly high yell.
“Don't move.” It's more of a threat coming from Scott to Pyro than a command, so Pyro just huffs and settles into the bed as the hand on his back draws away. He squirms when those freezing hands pry apart his cheeks, a wet thumb pawing at his hole before sinking in and past his rim without warning.
“Fuck—! Gods, Scott— A little warning next time?” Pyro yells with a jolt, turning in just in time to see Scott pull away with an almost sheepish look on his face.
“What happened to this working before? Or are you overplaying your capabilities again? Pity, for a second I thought you actually gained something useful from running away.” The tone alone has Pyro all but growling in annoyance, even as Scott pulls him even closer and pats his thighs apologetically
“Did the temperature shift from Tegrith to here melt any sense or manners you had?! Saliva or not it's easier when you're not being a dick with it!”
“I’ll show you dick,” Scott sneers, before grabbing a tight handful of Pyro's hair and shoving the other man back into the bed, ignoring the brunette's yelps and flailing, “And I told you to not move. Why are you so tight?”
“Because I'm not taking it up the ass every other day, Scott. The hell is wrong with you?!” Pyro wasn’t sure if he was more astounded at how bare bones Scott's sexual knowledge was, or if he was more furious Scott thought he was getting fucked every other day like some common whore.
“Whatever. Quiet, now.” Once more without warning, Pyro wasn’t ready for when Scott shoves three of his fingers into his mouth again, but makes quick work to lick and suck on them until they're sufficiently lubed once more.
The punishing grip on his loosens soon after that, but Scott only lets go to press the hand down on his nape even as he pulls his other hand away to examine Pyro’s work. Or, that’s what they're assuming he’s doing in the actionless silence. Not much to work with, especially with how all he can see is the headboard and pillow.
Pyro's just about to complain again before he feels Scott shift again, suddenly finding his hips laying more properly on Scott's lap, no longer held up by his own knees. The pressure of his cock pressed against Scott's thigh doesn't help him at all in trying not to buck when a slick finger prods at his hole once more.
“Take a breath if you need.” Scott murmurs, and Pyro would scoff if he wasn't trying to settle and brace. Scott works what seemed like his pointer into them slowly, and Pyro's glad he at least knew how to set a rhythm instead of just prodding randomly. Besides the pressure of a finger up his ass, the seeping coldness of Scott's fingers against the sensitive flesh made it significantly harder for Pyro to stay still and silent.
Even then, Pyro quickly becomes acclimated to the alien coolness as Scott gingerly rubs at his walls. In fact, Scott took his sweet, sweet time in slowly pumping that single finger in and out of him, so slowly in fact that Pyro started to get bored, unconsciously fidgeting with the pillow case.
He already has a particular jab in mind but he just sighs and forces himself to remain silent. If Scott wanted to treat them like fragile porcelain, fine, but he'll suffer the consequences later when it's Pyro's turn to fuck him.
By the time Scott eventually presses a second finger into the brunette, it's a damn miracle Pyro doesn't yank the other man’s hand out and prep himself right then and there. He's slept with his fair share of shy men, but Scott's going so slow it’s almost like he's trying to kill Pyro with boredom. Even once the blonde begins to carefully scissor him, Pyro decides he'd rather take Scott raw than wait another second.
"Can you hurry the fuck up?"
"You have two fingers up your ass right now. I don't think you're in a position to complain."
"I can complain as much as I want, especially when you're so slow.” Pyro huffed, attempting to shuffle in Scott's lap and find some friction, to little avail, “What’s taking so long?"
"I believe you need four fingers to be fully prepared for penetration... For ten more minutes?" Scott hummed, experimentally pressing deeper, and gods, he wasn't even scissoring anymore. This guy.
"Where the hell did you learn how to fuck? A book? Why are you timing it?!” Pyro scoffed, slightly miffed by the gentleness. Who the fuck does this guy think they are? Some fair maiden that'll break at the slightest touch? ”Have you even fucked anyone before?"
"First of all, I don't want to injure you, and second of all, yes I have. Now shut up." He has no doubt Scott's just rolled his eyes, so Pyro doesn't bother to look and see the familiar annoyed look in the other man's eyes, a grin already spreading on his face as he quickly came up with quips with the new information.
"Do something to shut me up then, virgin.” The moment the hand on his nape retreats to his hip, Pyro props up his chin on his palm and folds his other hand on the crook of his elbow, making sure to use his most uninterested face even though Scott can't see him from the angle, all so Scott got exactly how unimpressed they were.
He's glad Scott can't see his shit-eating grin that forms when he feels the hand on his hip tighten, cold fingers digging into his flesh.
“It's a wonder anyone can stand you and all your big talk.” Scott sneers, letting his fingers slip out of Pyro and pulling away to stand, “I'm assuming you aren't new to this either, or at least more experienced than me.”
“How did you get anyone to sleep with you and your blabbering mouth?” Refusing to look back, Pyro almost thinks Scott's was preparing to leave, until he hears the dull thud of clothes falling to the floor. Instinctively, he turns just enough to see Scott's pants and belt now discarded on the floor with the rest of his garments.
“What can I say? Some men wanted to shut me up the best way they knew how.” Pyro laughs as he turns towards the headboard again, latently interested as he sees Scott toss his shirt to the ground from the corner of his eye.
“Seems like nothing really worked then,” Scott bit out, “It's a wonder anyone can stand you. Then again it must be easier when you're lying all the time”
Pyro scowls, already thinking of another retort, but is quickly quieted when he feels the bed dip with Scott's weight, followed by cold hands grabbing his hips and roughly dragging him back against the blonde's hips.
Pyro yelps and internally curses himself for challenging the universe when he feels Scott press against his ass — and fuck, he felt bigger than he looked. Then again, there wasn't much to see through those thick winter pants. Of course, he could absolutely take Scott raw, he's done worse, but it's not something he particularly wanted to do at the moment. Or at all.
“Come now, don't act so shy all of a sudden. I was too slow and boring for being careful, right? Isn't this what you wanted?” Pyro grits their teeth as Scott grinds his length between their cheeks, rocking them forward. The hands on their hips hold them tight, uncaring of how hard Scott's nails dug into his skin and leaving little room to writhe and squirm.
“Oh please, you were working at a snail's pace! At that rate I'd start— FUCK—” Pyro is interrupted by his own gasp as Scott forces three fingers into him at once, once more without warning. The dry fingers are quickly dragged out of him with as much grace as they were shoved into him, but only long enough for Scott to spit on them for lubrication.
Pyro prides himself for not having to bite his tongue to stifle another gasp as those fingers are hastily stuffed into him again, barely giving him the time to adjust before they're pumping in and out of his shivering walls. He's probably just imagining it but the other man's hands almost feel colder now — or is he himself heating up? The blonde sets a quick and hard rhythm, switching from driving into him and scissoring every so often like a man on a mission. It's not even particularly good, as if he's just doing it to patronize them.
In the end it doesn't matter. Careless or not, Pyro's just glad he still got prep, sloppy as it was. When Scott draws away the man even makes sure to spread his rim with two fingers, as if examining his work.
“Since you just so happened to know everything, even in sex, is this good enough for you?” Scott mocks, and Pyro rolls his eyes even as he feels himself clench around nothing instinctively. He’s had to work with less, so it would probably be fine.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get it over with, jackass.” Pyro hears Scott spit into his hand once more, and tension in his shoulders that he wasn't previously aware of relaxes. It's still gonna hurt like a bitch, after all, saliva wasn't a popular lube for a good reason, but Pyro isn't prideful enough to gaslight himself into thinking he didn't prefer the slide as easy as possible.
“Stop trying to hold your breath. Just breathe, Pyro.” Pyro attempts to huff in annoyance but the breath stutters in their throat as they feel Scott press into them, the cockhead easily slipping past their rim. Scott’s not obscenely big. Just, well. Above expectations. Didn't help that Pyro didn't even get to see the other's cock, let alone get to manage their expectations. A shame, they had a lot of small dick jokes at the ready.
All plans to reform teases and jabs immediately go out the window when Scott pulls back and rocks forward, the slick spit letting him slide deeper than Pyro was prepared for at the moment. The unexpected movement makes him hiss and clench down automatically, which draws a hiss from Pyro. The frigid temperature of Scott's cock made it even harder to not gasp when it eased further into Pyro's hole, finally making him feel the stretch.
Pyro hisses again when Scott rocks forward too quickly, pressing deeper and stretching him further. A hand on his hip moves back up to squeeze his nape gently, thumb tracing circles into sweat-damp skin.
However, when Pyro tries to squirm again the tender clasp on his neck quickly tightens, pressing him down again. He narrows his eyes and grumbles, the sound cut off by Scott pulling back slightly to slide in deeper once more — not quite a thrust but close enough to get Pyro's cock to perk up in hopes for some real attention.
He has half the mind to touch himself and finally get off, but he has a feeling Scott wouldn't take too kindly to it, and Pyro was already comfortable with the current rhythm.
“Half way there. You still with me?” Scott says into the silence, and Pyro only then realizes how hard he's trying to keep down his reactions.
“Yeah, why? Scared I’m getting bored again?” Scott doesn't sigh or quip back like Pyro expects, instead remaining silent and continuing to trace up and down a major artery in Pyro's neck, “And I thought I was the one to exaggerate, it cannot only be halfway in.”
Scott doesn't say anything again, instead starting to roll his hips with each drag, pulling away to the tip just to slide back into Pyro's hole once more — the angle shifting subtly each time.
“Unless you're trying to be an interesting person for once.” Pyro tries again with another jab but receives no response or even recognition once more. The only sign Scott might've even heard him was the dormant hand on his hip moving to rub at his sides soothingly. “Scott?”
Scott murmurs something Pyro can't quite pick up, and just as Pyro starts to try and look back to see what has Scott so distracted, the blonde pulls back all the way to the tip and suddenly slams back in, quickly and roughly, all the way to the hilt.
The harsh and abrupt thrust makes Pyro's eyes widen with a gasp, the sting of the sudden stretch making him arch and clench down as Scott rolls his hips experimentally — grinding right over that underloved spot that made him see stars.
“Geez, what happened to— ah- to warnings—?” Pyro's breath catches in his throat when Scott pulls back to thrust sharply once more, this time missing his prostate entirely.
“Missed it.” Pyro gets out without thinking, the jab slipping off his tongue even as he grits his teeth. It's that which gets him some response from the blonde: a short chuckle followed by the hand on his side moving back to press on his tailbone, tracing between where Pyro's rim stretched around the base of Scott's cock. With how cold the rest of the other man's body was, Pyro wasn't all too surprised it felt like he was being fucked by an ice brick.
“Don't clench,” Scott finally spoke, and Pyro would sneer if not for Scott pulling out just enough to lubricate his cock with spit again, before he's pressing back in again, “You're making this harder on no one but yourself.”
Pyro's grumbles go unheard as he lets his face fall into the pillow, hands finding purchase in the soft sheets. Scott's going slow but he’s fully thrusting now, there's no doubt about it — with Scott pulling back all the way and grinding in deeply after each thrust. The hand on his ass moves to hold him up by the hip, and it's not like he needs the help, even when his knees twitch together from every harsh thrust.
Once more without thought, Pyro reaches down with one hand to touch himself, ignoring the way Scott laughs in response. He jerks himself off roughly and chases the distant pleasure carelessly. He doesn't get very close to coming by the time the hand on his hip crosses over to grab his wrist, pulling it away from his weeping cock, pinning it to the small of his back.
“You're so tense,” Scott observed, the hand on their nape moving to rub the tight muscles of Pyro's back, “You should be relaxed.” Pyro is far from relaxed, in fact, they feel they’'ll soon go mad if Scott doesn't pick up the fucking pace.
“I told you I'd take my time.” Scott laughs, and— fuck, did he say that out loud? Pyro internally curses himself and his slipping control, running his last free hand through his hair to ground himself as he tries to form some snippy retort, trying to form any cohesive sentence more than just swears to prove he's still here. To who? Fuck if he knows now.
Suddenly, Scott is leaning forward and angling his hips to drag his cock over Pyro's prostate with every quickening thrust, rocking the two of them forwards with the sheer force of it. Pyro bites down on his lips hard enough to bruise, stifling every lewd moan that threatens to tear from his throat. The way Scott has him pinned makes it hard not to squirm and kick, each thrust effortlessly slamming in deep and rubbing against that sweet spot without fail.
Pyro hisses, digging his nails into the bed and biting down another mortifying noise poorly. He knows the fucker is enjoying this, he can feel Scott's stupidly smug grin searing into the back of his head. It takes every last bit of his crumbling dignity to not bury his face into the pillow to hide when Scott quickens the pace and a freezing chill shoots up his spine all the way to his heated nape.
“If only you were always this nice for me.” Scott crooned and Pyro can hear the condescension dripping from his tongue. It took every last fiber of self-control he had left to not turn around and punch the smirk right off the other man's face.
Even if he tried he's sure he wouldn't do much damage and probably just embarrass himself further. The hand on his back moves to his nape to stroke the heated skin once more, petting him gently as if to encourage him to fall apart.
“I fucking hate you.” He muttered out through gasps, which proved to be a more difficult task than Pyro expected, when the icy hand holding his wrist comes down and wraps around his neglected cock, drawing from him a high and strangled noise. Scott thumbs at the sensitive slit, smearing the precum and stroking him with the slick fluid slowly yet in time with those unforgiving thrusts.
Scott is practically rutting into him now, only pulling back halfway to pound back into him. The blonde leans low enough to plaster his chest to Pyro’s back, the hand on his nape trailing down to steady his hip as his legs threaten to buck under the stimulation.
Pyro's sure he looks pathetic, an absolute mess of a person under Scott's frigid hands and steady thrusts. He's too overwhelmed to right himself properly, mind struggling to keep up and unable to keep his voice down as obscene sounds and moans spill past his lips against his will. Gods, Scott's barely touching him, using the lightest of strokes to ease him towards the edge.
Pyro’s fully panting and trembling as they approach their orgasm pathetically fast, and their whining must make that clear to Scott, who only quickens his already fast pace — slamming in harder like he's trying to make Pyro taste him on the back of their throat.
When Pyro comes it's like fireworks exploding behind his eyes, and for a second everything but Scott and himself fade away as Pyro comes fast and hard enough that he thinks he blacks out for a second. The continued ruthless pace of Scott railing into his guts makes Pyro writhe and whimper, weak knees bucking under the weight. While Pyro's body collapses onto the sheets, chest heaving and legs shaking, Scott holds him up by the hips because Scott doesn't let up, barely slowing down just to press him into the bed and grind right over Pyro's prostate to make him whine.
“So much for biting your lips bloody.” Pyro distantly heard Scott mutter as the ringing in their ears die down and the world fades back into place again. Eventually, Scott slows to a stop, arms braced on either side of Pyro's head as he leans down to kiss away the tears from their face and— wait, tears?
Pyro’s eyes blink open —open? When did he close his eyes?— in surprise as his hand reaches up and feels the tears trailing down his cheeks. When did he start crying? Why did he start crying?? Pyro doesn't have much time to contemplate or curse himself once Scott's cold hands slip under his shoulders and flip him on his back expertly.
Scott must've pulled out at some point, and Pyro inhales sharply when the other man's still-hard cock prods at his loosened rim. Scott's voice is a distant murmur as he pulls Pyro down onto his cock again with one hand on their hip and begins rocking into them again, pushing their legs just high enough to hook their knees on his shoulders in — in a — theres no fucking way—
He's putting him in what had to be a gods damn mating press — is this guy serious—!?
Scott quietly shushes another whine, leaning in impossibly close to press cool kisses to his warm skin, but he doesn't stop. He's moving slow, yes, but Scott keeps rolling his hips into them, rocking Pyro forwards and drawing horrible noises they didn't think they could make.
“Scott– Scott, please—” Gods, why is his voice so ruined? Why can't he help but kick out and squirm helplessly like a rabbit in a snare. He throws his head to the side with a dry sob, but it does nothing but let Scott continue to pepper his face with kisses.
Pyro's eyes roll back with a garbled scream as Scott presses him down even further, until his knees brush against the mattress with each quickening thrust. The proximity allows Scott to take advantage of Pyro's bared neck, letting him suck and bite marks into sensitive skin.
The pleasant post-orgasm buzz had worn off into oversensitivity, making each thrust feel harsher and deeper than they probably were. He's sure Scott must know this already, but even if Pyro were to try and tell him, all his words would be unintelligible. All he can really do is dig his nails into Scott's shoulders as, to his horror, he feels himself get hard again.
He didn't even know it was possible, especially after just coming a few minutes ago, but here he is, insides being pounded while his cock begins to leak again between both his and Scott's stomachs. It's hard to keep track of time in this… state, but Pyro feels as if he's slowly losing his mind with the way sobs wrack through his chest, staining his face with tears. He can't remember the last time he's felt like this, if at all — stripped and helpless, defenses and pride torn to shreds by a man's dick of all things.
He's distantly aware of Scott groaning and nuzzling at his chin to continue gnawing at his neck, but it's the least of Pyro's concerns when Scott is wildly chasing pleasure in his body. He's so sore already, walls twitching and clenching weakly with each careless thrust. Even as Scott's hips lose their rhythm and begin to drive into them frantically, Pyro can't help but sigh of relief —accompanied by another fucking cry— that spills from his throat. He just wants it to be over, even with his own orgasm just around the corner.
Scott, it seems, had other plans, dropping his head to the brunette's neck and using the only hand holding himself up to grab Pyro's cock and roughly jerk them off. The sudden and vigorous stimulation catches them so off guard Pyro thinks they shriek, and they arch hard off the bed with a yell as they come again, all over themself this time.
Pyro sobs and kicks out as overstimulation kicks in quicker this time as Scott continues to rail his guts and jerk his soft cock, tears blurring his vision. Thankfully, it's not long before Scott finally comes, letting out soft moans as he rides out his orgasm in Pyro, while they try and fail to not whine at the feeling of being filled.
Pyro is still hiccuping by the time Scott eventually pulls out, not even attempting to stifle a whimper when cool hands gently ease his aching legs down to lay them flat on the bed. He feels almost gutted in front of the other man, and not in the more literal sense — images of exotic butterflies pinned and on display in markets coming to mind.
“Still in there?” Pyro barely registers their own movement until Scott is talking, rubbing their back soothingly as they curl up, trembling knees pressed close and pulling up into his hunched spine. They're on their side now, eyes hazy and unseeing even as Scott moves in front of him, taking their face in his sweetly soft hands. Pyro shudders through a whine when Scott lays down and pulls them close, pressing their face to the crook of his neck and petting anywhere he can reach — from the down of his hair to the small of his back.
Pyro doesn't think he's ever come as hard as he just did ever, let alone two times in one round. His body is aching and he's so tired he feels he could fall asleep right now. Pyro whines again when he clenches around nothing, but Scott is quick to shush him, pressing a kiss to his brow.
Before he knows it his cries have quieted down into sniffles. Pyro isn't shaking as much anymore — the tremors dying down until all that's left is a bone deep exhaustion and his heavy breaths mingling with Scott's. His body, for the first time since the start of the argument, finally feels like his own again. The heat burning in him feels less like a forest fire and more of a bonfire, something steady and controlled.
“You're okay.” Scott breathes out into the quiet, voice hoarse. Pyro feels his eyelids droop as Scott pulls away again, pressing one last kiss to his cheek bone. He lets himself float in the pleasant buzz of the afterglow, recognizing the absence of the migraine that was pressing at his temples earlier.
His eyes flutter open —did he close them again?— at the feeling of a damp cloth on his cheek, wiping down all the sweat, tears and drool. He blinks away the remaining tears clouding his vision, barely making out Scott's blurry figure as the blonde wipes down the rest of the fluids staining his body.
Pyro's barely present as Scott works to clean both of them, struggling to stay awake and staring up at the ceiling listlessly— is he on his back? When did he move? He comes to when Scott straddles his hips, curved over him and bracketing both sides of Pyro's head. The afternoon light paints Scott’s fair complexion in gold, like those tapestries of faceless figures that mother would always hang by the fireplace.
“Pyro?” Scott is murmuring, hand supporting the one his cheek — is that their hand? It sure feels like theirs when they gently pet Scott's cheek, tracing a tiny scar on the other man's jaw he doesn't recognize. There's so much of Scott Pyro doesn't recognize, from the form of his back to the callouses of his hands, but as Pyro pulls him closer until Scott is tucked under their neck, heavy on their chest, they find they still know him anyways.
As he falls asleep to the sound of Scott's even breaths, Pyro distantly feels as if something deep inside him shatters its chains, like molten lava spilling out of its restraints yet without explosion of fanfare.
A problem for tomorrow's Pyro.