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Despite being in this position only once before, it still feels strikingly familiar to him.
"Space Racer," you stare down at him, knees digging gouges into the earth on either side of his ribs; despite himself– and despite the situation– his hands find their way to your hips instead of his gun. "So the reports were true. I thought you long lost."
He grunts as he shifts beneath you, the rough ground digging into his back. It's nothing compared to being sealed in a meteorite for a century, but it's still bothersome.
"You almost sound like you miss me." He retorts, tilting his head back so his gaze meets yours.
You sit tall above him, a pillar of white and silver and eyes that no longer seem so hateful. Perhaps that's what makes him hesitate this time around, stops him from reaching for the Infinity Ray and instead has him squeezing at your hips like you're a long lost lover he wants to re-familiarize himself with.
And perhaps you are, in a way. You'd taken him, rode him and milked him dry. Carried his child.
Despite the circumstances (and what convoluted circumstances they were) you could indeed be called his lover.
"Perhaps I do." You murmur, gaze distant as you drink him in idly, fingers reaching for his helm. "You've been gone a century. I missed our... encounters."
"Encounters". What a polite way to put you chasing and trying to kill him.
Though, he thinks, subtly shifting beneath you, there had been another type of encounter he'd quite enjoyed.
The memory came to him in pieces.
You fighting to keep him down without harming him. Him trying to fight you off (but not too hard. No, he couldn't lie and say he'd tried all that hard). Your hands, rough yet soft in that eerie way Viltrumite hands often were, touching and feeling and stripping him. Then rolling around, his manhood squished between their bodies, your heat dizzying.
Space Racer is snapped from his thoughts by his helmet coming off. You carefully pull it away, looking down at him with a considering expression, lip tugged between teeth in an almost endearing look.
Then you lean down, faces inches apart.
"There is something I have wondered..." You whisper, holding his gaze. "So many species do this, and yet..."
Racer stiffens when you lean in, closing the gap between them to press a soft kiss against his lips.
"... I do not understand why. It is so..." Another kiss, this time you tilt your head just so, and Racer can't help but return it this time.
A century alone, buried, and his first kiss is with the Viltrumite that almost-but-not-quite assaulted him.
He truly lived a fascinating life.
His hand cups your cheek and you pull back, eyeing him curiously, confused by the gentle gesture. Then he pulls you back in, pressing a harder kiss against your open mouth. You allow him, humming at the sensation, especially when he slips his tongue in.
This goes on for some time, kisses traded slowly despite the fact they were in the middle of a war.
He should stop, he knows. Push you off and wave his gun around, threaten you until you fly off. Then go back to the Coalition, join up with the others again. He shouldn't be here, consorting with the enemy so explicitly.
And yet Space Racer doesn't move an inch, simply holding and guiding you as he kisses you over and over until his lips tingle and his lungs protest.
When he pulls back, you look at him like you can't recognize him. Then–
"Take care of our daughter."
You shoot off, dust billowing in your wake. He shuts his eyes and waits a bit before opening them, looking up to where he can see a small pale dot growing more and more distant.
With a sigh, Racer grabs his helmet and gets back up.
He'd never planned to have children.
Maybe when he was a younger man he gave it some consideration, but after becoming a space travelling nomad, any plans for starting a family were shoved to the back of his mind, left for some far off day when he grew old and was ready to settle.
But of course, the decision was taken out of his hands the day you decided you wanted him, fucking yourself down onto him like a bitch in heat, taking him better than most females ever have.
Not that he'd even known that was your intention. No. It wasn't until a whole century later that he met his daughter for the first time.
Jaed was ninety-nine years old and yet looked barely past twenty. She had your skin tone and most of your features, but she had his thick frame and broad shoulders, and her eyes, though only two, were the same shape as his.
She also had green hair the same colour as his skin.
"Mother told me much about you," Jaed had told him that first day, smiling brightly. An odd expression for a Viltrumite. "She told me you were one of the greatest non-Viltrumite warriors she ever met."
After the shock wore off, Space Racer had done his due and taken responsibility, getting to know this hybrid child of his.
To his immense pride, she was very much unlike the other Viltrumites.
Jaed had explained that, to hide her hybrid nature and keep her safe, you'd remained on a Viltrumite colony until she was grown before presenting her to the Grand Regent. And by then, their numbers were low enough that the Viltrumite had forgiven you for sullying yourself with a lesser being and let Jaed live– after testing her in combat, that is.
And because of her upbringing, she had a much different view of life and the universe than others of her kind. She'd grown up among aliens, after all, playing with them under your weary gaze and spending her youth seeing them as people, not cattle or slaves.
"I had to pretend otherwise, sometimes, so as to not endanger myself." Jaed said, giving him a slightly nervous look. "I have... done things to fit in."
Racer had guessed as much, and didn't hold it against her.
It wasn't like he was all that innocent either. The Infinity Ray had killed many over the years, all under his control.
So he reached for his daughter, still unable to believe he had one at all, and reassured her he didn't hold it against her.
"You did what you had to." He said, awkwardly pulling her into a hug. She returns it eagerly, and he melts, cradling her and breathing in her scent.
She even smelled like him.
Despite the circumstances, Racer was glad to have her, glad that she existed. Though Viltrumites were the enemy, his daughter was innocent and more than welcome to join them.
Or, he thought so, but some of the looks the Coalition's leader gave her made the nomad reconsider his alliance with them.
Thaedus looked at his daughter like she was a threat. And he understood why. He did. But Jaed was still his child and so Space Racer kept a close eye on the Viltrumite betrayer, always standing between them no matter how many others were in the room.
He wouldn't let any harm come to his daughter.
He shouldn't have been surprised to cross paths with you yet again, but a part of him was. The rest of him was too worn to care, tired and wary and wanting this war over and done with, to free the enslaved planets and put an end to Viltrum forever so that he could leave with his daughter before anything happened.
Though, he thought, panting as he stared up at you, body aching slightly from where you'd tackled him off his bike mid-flight, I suppose I should tell her too. He licked his lips, the sour tang of blood hitting his palate. You deserved to know if your child was in danger as well, regardless of your enemy status.
Space Racer was well aware this was a dangerous thing to do. Any sign of consorting with the enemy could put him under scrutiny, could destroy the trust his comrades had in him; but he was a father now, and the love he felt for Jaed was as strong as his Infinity Ray.
If it meant keeping the still young girl safe, he'd consort with you as much as necessary.
"Racer."
"Viltrumite."
You huff, almost fond. He couldn't help but note how much... looser you'd become, less stoic and more... personal. Perhaps motherhood had effected you more than he'd considered.
"So cold. You could at least call me something insulting. That at least is more personal."
He shifted, your legs tightening around his waist. "We're enemies. We're not supposed to get personal."
"No? But that's never stopped us before." You say, lowering yourself as your arms bracket his head. Up close, your breath steams against his helmet. "Come on, Racer, insult me. I miss that voice of yours degrading me. I always found it entertaining when you did."
You truly have changed. Never before would you have admitted such a thing, nor seemingly enjoyed it. Your Viltrumite superiority wouldn't let you.
He narrows his eyes, "Just unhand me and let me go. Before my comrades get here. I won't be able to guarantee your safety if they witness this scene."
You hum, soft, blowing hot air on his helmet until the glass goes foggy. Gently, you raise a hand, finger dragging through the fog to draw a heart of all things.
"Oh, you do care." Your eyes met his again, leaving your fading, confounding work; but Racer couldn't look away from the heart, throat feeling tight at the symbol of affection.
You... no, you couldn't be... entertained, yes, attracted to him, fair enough, but...
He grimaces. "Not wanting to see the carrier of my child die doesn't mean I care for you personally, Viltrumite." He insists, but you just smile down at him knowingly, something tender and possessive in your eyes.
It makes his gut clench with discomfort and something weary, not liking the thought of any Viltrumite looking like that, let alone you.
Yes, he and you had fucked, but the circumstances had been different. You'd done it to gain a child, likely as some poorly thought out way to get his gun. But there hadn't been feelings involved– not like there seemed to be now.
Last time it was just lust and fury and desperation. Now...
Your fingers reach for the zipper of his spacesuit once more, tugging it down to reveal his bare, heaving chest, frills flushed with a hint of blue. Your fingertips danced over them, making him gasp in pleasure.
Now, you looked at him like you wanted to claim him, to keep him.
And with him being so needed to win this war, he couldn't allow you to have your way.
"You know..." You begin, gently playing him, touch curious as you caressed the frills along his ribs, "the Coalition has angered the Grand Regent terribly. He does not like losing– no Viltrumite does, really. But with each one of ours you kill, the more furious he grows.
"Though..." You tilt your head. "Not enough to enter the field himself. Not yet. But I imagine it won't be long before he does. Especially if anymore Viltrumites die. We're an endangered species, you know."
Space Racer almost laughs. Endangered species? Even one of you was enough to wipe out billions. There was nothing endangered about you.
But the way you're playing his body leaves no room for mirth, his voice strangled as he gasps and hisses at your less delicate touches. Your hands shove into his suit greedily, pushing it open further, exploring him more than you had the previous time.
Your hands scorch their way across his form, groping and fondling him like some pleasure bot you'd paid to use for the night.
And he didn't do a thing about it, just laying beneath you, feeling the fabric around his crotch grow tighter as his member came to life– that part of him remembered you very well. How well you'd taken him, like one of his own kind, how you'd clenched and dripped, riding him until his scales hardened and he knotted you.
Space Racer didn't offer a word of protest despite the fact he really should be, despite the fact his comrades could be looking for him right now and how this really wouldn't look good for him.
But before he could even consider fighting you off and putting an end to this– this thing, your hand was slipping past his belly and grabbing his cock.
Immediately, he hissed, eyes fluttering shut at the tight, silken grip. His hips jolted, thrusting up into your palm a couple times before he could control himself.
"But I won't let him." You say. Had you been saying something? Space Racer chided himself for not paying attention. But how could he when you were so– "You sired a worthy heir on me once. Killing you would be a... waste. He'll see that, I'm sure, especially with our numbers being so low."
Your hand moves, stroking him up and down while you begin tugging your pants down with one hand.
"Especially when I carry another child." His eyes snap wide open, staring at you in shock. "Would you like that, Racer? Another little hybrid. Perhaps a son, this time, if we're lucky."
"N-no! We're in the middle of a war–"
"Shhhh."
Your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing once in warning as you lift yourself, hovering to discard your pants. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. Viltrumite women have been fighting whilst pregnant for many millenniums." You assured him, settling back down on him; he felt the heat of your cunt against him, then, and couldn't resist rocking his hips in search of more of that delicious heat.
"Me and our child shall be fine." You roll your hips, expression faltering into something delighted as his soft scales rub through your folds and nudge your clit repeatedly. You moan softly, rutting against him a bit, his cock quickly leaving you both drenched in copious amounts of natural lubricant. "Y-you don't have to worry a-about a thing– oh!"
Unable to take it anymore, he grabbed onto your hips and pressed you down, fucking into the cleft of your pussy repeatedly, the texture of his scales giving you more pleasure than an unadorned cock would, plus all the motion was creating a frothy mess of fluids between your bodies.
"Just–" he grit his teeth, feeling your fingers flex against his neck. "Just fuck me already. Enough of your games, just take what you want and leave me be afterwards."
You made a noise, reluctantly lifting away from his heavy cock. You eyed it with something uncannily like devotion, lifting it before slowly sliding down onto it, walls protesting before giving in, his cock filling you up just as well as it did the first time.
Only once you were seated on his lap did you give him a toothy grin, sharp fangs visible.
"Never." You whispered.
Raising your hips midway, you let yourself fall back down, ass meeting his lap with a wet clap.
"I have gone a century without you. I didn't realize it at first, but the long years without you made me realize how much I missed you." Racer's heart clenched at your words, expression shifting between worried and pleasured as you rode him steadily. "Aside from you, my days were often boring and long. But the times I spent tracking you down..."
A whine, and you sped up, cunt pulsing around him until his scales began to harden.
"... those were my favourite days! Oh, you three-eyed bastard! You ruined me, distracted me!" You cried, releasing his neck before your grip could tighten too much. "And then Nolan got to you instead! And how could I ask where you had been buried? Suspicions would rise, especially with Jaed resembling you as much as she did."
He didn't know what to say. Space Racer just stared up at you with mixed emotions, feeling your bounces grow shallower as his scales hardened within you. He squeezed your hips once more before daring to reach up this time, squeezing the breasts that still bounced deliciously above him.
They were as soft as he imagined.
You arched your back, gaze zealous as you allowed him to fondle you back.
"Careful," he said, watching you rock yourself on his cock, barely able to move off it now. "You almost sound like you like me." He said, trying to play it off as a joke– wishing it was a joke.
But you just smiled again, earth crumbling to dust under your grip as you hit your peak.
"Oh, but I do like you, Space Racer. And this time, I'm not letting you escape me again."
When you came, you went limp above him, shaking with the force of it, depending on him to catch and hold you through it; a difficult endeavour, as not long after you orgasmed, so did he, eyes rolling back as you milked him once more, each pulse of your pussy making his hips jerk up, flooding your insides.
He held you, hands roaming your back as you both breathed heavily together, the moment intimate despite the history between him and you.
When you regained your strength and lifted your head, he saw that the zealous possession in your eyes had calmed some with your release, satisfaction muting it. But it was still very much there, and he still felt that earlier nervousness at the sight, at the knowledge you felt so strongly for him now.
It was unnatural. Viltrumites didn't... aside from Nolan and his sons, and he supposed his daughter, he'd never heard of a Viltrumite being like... this.
He wasn't going to call it loving. The look in your eyes was too dangerous, too possessive for that.
But you cared. In your way, you cared for him now. And he didn't know what to do with that.
Taking a deep breath, Space Racer just decided he'd deal with it later. Once his erection had died down and you two weren't literally stuck together. Then...
Then he'd figure out how he was going to explain this. Especially if you gave him another hybrid child.