Chapter Text
Her coat kept her warm in the dragon's territory. He'd chosen the snowy mountain range, perhaps because it discourages people from searching too long for his hidden base. Too bad for him Lacey is used to walking over rough terrain.
Their bases are an open secret and mostly exist for convenience, since most people don't want to spend all their time in the Terarium. She has a cozy little hole in the ground; the newest elite prefers simple pleasures and just has a warm cave where he cooks. Drayton's is hidden among the high peaks, demanding a serious hike -- almost too much work, it would seem, for the almost-man himself to get there. But his biome is far away from the elevator up to the dorms, and it's not so taxing to reach coming from the area's League Club plaza.
The facade that held the entrance would look cozy if it weren't made of frozen rock. Also if it didn't have a large silver can standing next to it. Lacey lifted the lid and sure enough, there sits the Alolan variant of Muk, looking up at her, settled in its steel and unbothered by the cold thanks to an apparent inability to freeze at this temperature.
What am I in for....
So when she turned the handle, she braced herself. Beyond the door, the single room was surprisingly clean. She could see the floor, an unexpected twist. Granted, she had no evidence Drayton would be a slob other than his terminal laziness.
Now feeling a tiny bit bad for maligning him needlessly, Lacey went to go hang up her fuzzy coat in the broad armoire. As soon as she opened this door, an avalanche of random items tumbled out. She wasn't too surprised by some of these items, but stopped looking at the pile pretty quickly. And seeing as there were no empty hangers on the metal rack, she changed her mind.
Sitcom expectations, she thought. Understood. Since she planned to be there for a while even after Drayton appeared, she crossed to the fridge in the kitchenette to help herself to something. This door revealed neither a neat slate nor an avalanche. But she still had little choice but to scratch her head.
Why are there two open bottles of Razz juice? One for each shelf? This was normal Drayton behavior when it came to baggies of snacks, but one would think there's no sense in doing the same with bottles that are nearly right next to each other.
Since it was more convenient, Lacey poured herself a glass from the top shelf. She was ready to sit for a while, yet almost the moment she sat down, the base's door gently swung wide.
Minutes ago, their League Club's champion was fighting a challenger; she knew this from seeing said challenger pass through her own coastal biome seeking Pokemon for Drayton's gimmick. After these official Elite 4 battles, Drayton would sometimes disappear. She banked on the hunch he retreated to his hidden base because he didn't feel like walking anywhere else, and hit the jackpot. (Indeed, she was convinced he suggested they each get these glorified Secret Bases in the first place for the purpose of furthering his own laziness.)
Drayton was not fazed, neither by having to step over the pile in front of his armoire nor seeing his co-elite sitting at the round dining table between the kitchenette and his cozy-looking sofa. "Hey, Lacey. What's brought you here? Razz juice, good idea."
Long ready to confront him, she cleared her throat, but then dropped her face as Drayton drank right from the same bottle she'd poured.
"...Do you drink out of that all the time?"
"Yeah, the top one's for me so I don't have to bend down. Why, did you get that from this one?"
He actually bothered to get a fresh cup of Bottom and trade vessels with her, showing some form of gentlemanly behavior. There were other chairs by the table but he actually walked past them to sit, preferring the yielding shiny black couch. "All right, club things. I think?"
"Actually, no."
"OK, the Muk, then. He showed up in my fridge one day as a Grimer, you see--"
"Please, I really don't need to know." Between the mix-up and now this knowledge, she had temporarily lost her taste for the juice. "Seeing as you'll never guess, this is about those rumors that you're blowing off class just to have endless sex parties."
Some of his juice splashed back into the glass, as opposed to worse places.
"Uh," he tried. "I can explain."
"No need." Out of nowhere, she removed her barrettes and set them down. How curious. As she moved, she continued: "You're a gluttonous dragon, worse than a Snorlax around harvest time." When she stood and came around the table, he noticed her calf-legged, earth-tilling boots.
When did the switch flip? She opened her coat, button by button from the top, revealing the bust part of the uniform to be an isolated bit of cloth. When did she go from scolding him to seducing him? Actually, it's somehow still both.
"I know how it's explained -- I've tamed your likes before. You think you need that many visitors to sate yourself? Please." The plum walls of the coat fell from each other like curtains, showing off paint. One tile of the pattern bordering his waistcloth, drawn in deep purple above her real hair color. "With me as your opponent, make no mistake that you are going to lose to my labyrinth."
If this didn't convince him....
While she undressed, he had managed not to snort or choke on his larger next sip in astonishment. He carefully swallowed.
"Okay, but I must warn you. I'm not the gluttonous dragon." He shifted on his couch so she could see the dent of his growing member in his uniform pants. "This is your whodunnit."
Lacey covered her mouth to snort a bit. Oh! Sometimes men have a silly need to name their dangly branches or otherwise endow them with brains or powers assumed. Drayton's expression didn't change.
"Like all the ones before you, you don't believe. Trust me when I say I'm not trying to be funny. I'm not trying to be cute: This thing's a beast, a tyrant even. So I'll be impressed if you impress Drake."
She kept covering the chuckles, as if to say, You're serious? You did name it? Let me laugh even harder....
"Don't laugh too hard, or I'll ask you to leave." He would've asked that already just for her being in the League Club. But Lacey is an Elite One, not asking for "perks" in exchange, and clearly isn't afraid of what he thinks. These are passing marks in this one case. He's gotta draw the line somewhere, though.
With mirth still under her face, she lighted on the side of him, birdlike (a Swablu, maybe). Before he could even speak, she deftly worked his pants down to the ankles without showing a thing beneath his royal-purple waistcape, pulling the pant legs away. Her target twitched, still yet unseen.
Lacey straightened back up without a hint of losing balance. Sitting primly like the maid of a house, albeit on her knees, she looked down on his resting head and asked "How does 'Drake' want to be impressed, then?"
"Just do what you're gonna do. I promise we'll come buckets."
Now she seemed irritated.
"What?"
"Are you too lazy to even have daily preferences??"
"No one's said that. Or didn't you come here with some idea of where you want what parts of me, and how far you want them stuffed?"
He turned the balance of seduction around surprisingly easily. "There, that's got your engine going, hasn't it?" he added at the heat in her cheeks, smiling his wholehearted smile.
Besides, more than anything he's curious to see what Lacey wants to do. Will she start with kisses? With writhing over his lap? Actually, she started by caressing her palms down his throat from the bottom of the jawline, ending at his shirt collar and alternating hands. The touches spread out lightly, fishing past his shirt collar briefly, then back out to drop down his covered chest and back.
It's almost not sexual, except for the part where it's foreplay. As her fingers scritched indulgently under his chin, he lets out a trill. Is this a coincidence, or did she do her homework? This kind of attentive rubbing alone is one of his favorite things. And considering most people aren't so interested in just petting, it's quite a coincidence if it's the former.
"Selfish drake, you like it when your partners adore you like this?"
"Nah, I just like being petted."
It seemed like a distinction without a difference.
No kissing, though? he wondered. Just on the neck, then? I guess. Some people feel strange about it when they're kissing not-datemates on the mouth. It's going to make her dragonslaying quest that much harder, though.
Lacey had to admit her position at his side was awkward for lavishing him, but that was the tradeoff to fully watch his reactions, high and low. His legs had opened very naturally, almost in time with his hardening horn lifting through the part in his waistcloth. Based on his boasting of "Drake" she'd expected, well, a beast; a Tyranitar, even. Instead he bore a normal penis of ordinary size.
Ordinary, until you notice the fruits below it.
Look at those big Bouffalant balls!, one couldn't help but think. It robbed the question of why he would screw around This Much even as a teenager.
"See something you like?" he asked teasingly. There's no way she's making that face over just his dick. Most of her stunned expression said his luggage was unreal, but the upward tweak of the side of her mouth said And That's a Good Thing.
She covered her mouth before looking him in the eyes, mostly to hide the water well-up in her reservoir. "With Cheris like those, y'all must have some breedin' to git done." Drake twitched from the shift in her speech patterns, but Drayton's mouth replied "Gross." She ignored that and reached between his legs to gently gather the weighty orbs into her fingers like a handful of rich loamy soil. So very warm, so very laden; it reminded her body of exactly how sex felt. Why she came here to ride him, of all people, just because he wasn't known to kiss and tell.
"Drake" began to drizzle at this touch, which was almost her cue. Side still to the couch, she bent over the dragon, covering his lap from sight. Like this she wouldn't get to watch his expressions, but he couldn't see hers either. They'll see how much he moans with just her touch to go on.
"Uhh--" Drayton started, his confidence already a bit rattled by something. She couldn't be certain what, but briefly lifted to give him a satisfied smile.
"Don't be so shocked. I eat meat, and I adore it."
"That's not the trouble. I haven't even freshened up."
"Then let me be the judge of how badly it stinks."
It's very easy to kink on type matching. A user of Fairy type offering herself to a Dragon user's desires: hot. Even if it actually loses reverse-matchup points here, thanks to Drayton's Archaludon, supported by prior moves, being able to shut down her fairies every time in cheerful denial of the fact she should, on-paper, wipe the floor with him.
The Fairy weakness to "Poison": also hot. Granted, to a real Fairy such things are true anathema. Lacey is "weak to it" in that she likes her entire world, all of her senses, to be narrowed to the sword she's polishing -- so if the ambience it brings with it is loud, all the better. The last boy she'd been seriously dating (before he met Daddy and inevitably split before even talking to him), the stench below his belt was almost rancid, to the point it embarrassed him when she'd go down.
Drayton's sweaty crotch... is almost polite against that memory. Yes, he's less than scentless, but they were not talking of days of funk: just his natural cologne, which still smells just as much like sex. His taste is like the sweetness hidden in a strip of barbecued jerky. She let it be obvious, over every inch and certainly including the jewels, how much she savored his vaunted "Drake," partly for the mental effect and half to show how well he passed the sniff test.
He didn't last long under this bombardment.
Or did he? It tasted like sem*n, but there was much too little, just a splash. No matter. She savored what she could, rolling the flavor in her mouth before swallowing it to say: "You're eating a bit too much candy. I can tell."
Not for a second did she leave "Drake", which despite shooting off was still twitching-hard. To test its resolve, she thought she might swallow it whole right now. Suckling on parts of her lover's body could be called something of an obsession for her, and she thus had mastered the deep throat, the one that amazes boys (but not enough to take a basic talk with her father); the one she was going to hold in reserve until she thought it would do the most damage to "Drake". Let it strike him while he's weakened (?). If Drayton's stamina is as rumored, the more knock-outs, the better.
Drayton was so surprised to be fully engulfed without warning, she felt the couch budge as he flopped back. Not many to survey, to be sure, but she'd yet to meet a boy for which half-swallowing his "drake" isn't effective. Lacey lacked a gag reflex, a good thing, for it let her enjoy nudging a penis head as best as it could move around the end of the road. His leg sporadically drummed appreciation for her throat, de facto stroking her hair.
She could spend from suckling him, but that's not the way to go in a war of endurance. Rising with a final light draw on "Drake," savoring the aftertaste, Lacey slid her leg, and her coat with it, over his lap like the flow of water. But before she could mount Drayton's peak, his hand swung up to cup her -- blocking her descent, but instead undulating among her full, spread lips. Thrilling: not just the feeling of his skilled hands, he really moved! The bar is so low. She could feel the "Nope" in this action, but alone it didn't tell her why. Was it because she didn't come in with obvious contraception, or did he want her to do something else?
Wordlessly, he opened a small drawer next to the couch: inside, there sat approximately five million spermicide types or delivery methods thereof.
"No condoms?"
"Oh, they're there. But if we don't change them out they're probably gonna explode." He had no idea the effect of this news on her.
"Well, don't worry about that; I've got it all handled." Her Clay side ultimately came from Sinnoh, where it had roots stretching back to an older name of the region. These roots came with various herbal teas, and just before arriving, she'd brewed and downed an important one.
"Really?"
"Yes; you don't really think I want to get in a motherly way while we're still in school, do you?"
"I wasn't sure. Breeding kinks don't have a lot of logic behind them."
You could say that of a lot of things, she wanted to say, but didn't. Why cool down what takes time to build up? Instead she joined her hands, smiling at him. "Trust me, you can freely let your dragon spew as much as you wish inside all my caves." Peeking from under her eyelids, she added "As often as you want, too."
That seemed to rev his engine.
He removed his hand, drawing away clear strings. And she sheathed him promptly, clutching instantly, realizing that as much as she thought she missed this, she'd underestimated it. Just to start moving upon his dragon she already moaned distinctly. Drayton put his head back, but still watched her from below. He made an excellent target for her lips.
When she swept upon his mouth and gave him his own taste, truly surprising him, she felt a burst from "Drake" land inside her and hummed into him. How long has it been since she seriously kissed? As long as the last time she and a boy had last enjoyed each other. She had planned to kiss Drayton slowly but her hunger broke forth and made her tongue screw down past his parted jaws, bringing the hum back up out of him. Then she didn't care to think of much more than slathering every surface inside him, good thing that he seemed to enjoy kissing every bit as much. His own tongue moved in counter or corroboration, it didn't matter which as long as he continued. The evenly-matched combat of their lips induced him to move her closer by twin grasps of the back hips.
At some point Drayton let go, allowing her purposeful writhing over his beast to proceed unconstrained. He is still responding to her end of things, giving minute sighs and twitches... it's just not as dramatic a show as she usually expects. Aside, that is, from the occasional strong splatter inside her grip. Must be more pre, even he can't be able to spend that much, but the basest parts of her wanted it to still be sem*n, so much of it that it would wash her walls to the innermost inch before he had his real climax.
"Really enjoying that, huh?" he asked, taking her focus away from a swell of feeling. Aside from slipping out of his delinquent jacket, spreading his legs, using Harden and briefly holding her close, Drayton hadn't moved an inch. He didn't seem to be smug at her distraction; just amused.
It still ran a shiver through her shoulders. All of a sudden, with that vibe, she felt like she's in a battle with him. But of course she is. She came here and threw the gauntlet right down on his lighthouse.
"Well; not as much as I could. It seems I haven't found your switch."
"My switch, you say?"
"You know I've seen you jump. Your legs are strong, you can move as if you're dancing." Thinking of that made her clench. She wanted to see, or rather feel that if she could: Drayton motivated to show her his speed and flexibility in another kind of "battle". "It's not that you can't; I haven't made you want to, yet."
"Nah, this isn't something you did wrong. It's Drake's baseline for happy."
"B-- baseline."
"Yeah, we're feeling good enough. What do you think the tiny org*sms are all about?"
"Oh...." She quaked quietly, but it must've been obvious inside her twitching den that that knowledge hit the mark.
If he's this much a mutant among teenage boys, her victory might be harder to attain than she thought. He arose easily and fired off easily, but the real challenge was always how long it will take to make his drake wilt.
"Knowing that, you wanna take a break?" he offered. To her indignation.
"A break?! Who do you think I am? I've been pacing myself since I got h-"
