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There are sometimes in Kankri’s life, or afterlife really, that he regrets taking the vow of celibacy. When he was alive, it wasn’t so bad. He was distracted enough with his sermo- speec- conversations and the game itself that he didn’t have half a mind to think about anything pertaining to sex. But ever since Meenah killed them all in one fell swoops, which he doesn’t hold against her in any way at all, it’s just gotten difficult. He talks with his friends less, and is beginning to understand he doesn’t need to be such a ‘windbag’ to get the points he needs to make across. But with all the countless sweeps dead in this bubble with them, with little to do, he gets… restless.
The others have always noted when he puts on a little weight, and when he sheds it quickly. Altering oneself in the bubbles is a little harder than manipulating the surroundings, but it can be done. But Kankri never believed in tampering with them much, thought it would be a shameful use of powers that weren’t his own. But he did gain and lose that weight on his own.
He’d never been quite sure about every minute detail of the vow when he took it, so a great deal of sweeps back, one of the times things had gotten to an unbearable point, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He took a reprieve from his vow for one night, just a few hours, each month to deal with the stress. Because everyone snaps under enough pressure.
And right now the pressure was worse than ever.
The instincts for every troll to copulate were very difficult to fight. Something Kankri battled with constantly. That, coupled with the normal amount of genetic material one should produce every pailing period… It was rough. When he would put things off long enough, fate would turn her hand on him, and instead of releasing it, it would build up. He’d gain weight in his lower abdomen, his gut distended with fluid. He wore big sweaters and looser fitting pants, his normal pants far too constrictive. But even still Porrim and Meenah took note, and Cronus and Mituna were usually assholes about it. Though Mituna’s was very likely not in his control.
He would take those few hours once a month and break from his vow to deal with the issue for fear it would turn into a medical hazard if he didn’t. But he always spent a few days alone after, thankful he was graced with the privilege of wallowing in his own disgust and contempt for a while.
But when Kankri decides it’s a good idea to hang around the troll he’s flushed so very hard for for long periods of time, things tend to get a little farther out of hand, and faster. And after two weeks of sitting and talking to Rufioh, and sitting with him in the grass until they both passed out in the shade… he had a bigger issue than normal. But the worst thing he could do now was run and hide because at this point, Rufioh had found this to be a routine, even if he didn’t have the same thoughts about it as Kankri did.
He left his hive, one hand fisted in the hem of his sweater, the slosh of his own genetic material build up was nearly audible, disrupting his center of gravity. He swallowed hard nearly halfway up the stairs and out into the part of the bubble Rufioh was usually found. Kankri braced himself against one of the trees, breathing hard. He pushed on his stomach a little and immediately regretted it. He felt sick, his blood pusher in his throat and his lungs shriveling at the feeling. He groaned quietly. Kankri’s ear flicked at the sound of the wood creak, looking up.
“Yo doll, how’s it?” Rufioh called from the air, the hum of his wings behind him keeping him aloft was soothing. And it also made his anxiety spike dangerously. He couldn’t do this. Not today. He needed to go back to his hive.
By the time he’d shifted off the tree, Rufioh had landed gracefully and went to collect him into a hug, but realized his rule about touching without permission and shoved his hands into his pockets with a smile, “Did my glorious descent wipe your pan Kankri?”
Kankri blinked, “W-what? I was, um, momentarily distracted. My apologies. What were you saying?”
“I asked you how things were hanging.” He chuckled cooly.
“Oh. Well, you know, the usual. Things are well. I’m fine. It’s all good.” Kankri nodded quickly, straightening himself up, trying to ignore the slight sway in his middle.
Rufioh cocked his head to the side, “You sure you’re alright? You’re looking like you’re on the bad side of not so great. If you don’t mind me pointing it out. You need something doll?”
Kankri’s heart thrashed in his chest, the pet names and he was standing really close. He could smell the pleasant musk that was the brownblood and the occasional flick of his wings behind him made him ache to the pit of his being with such deep pitiful longing.
No. He had a vow. No thoughts relating to anything sexual.
But, did that mean he couldn’t have a matesprit? If he was never sexual with him, but he still had him, that was okay, right?
Of course not! That would mean he was tying Rufioh into a quadrant he not only didn’t want to be any part of, but wasn’t getting the full benefits from. That wouldn’t be right of him and he knew it. He’d known it for a long time, which is why he’d never done anything about it.
A small wave of his hand and Kankri’s attention was back on him.
“Hm- Oh! I… no, please don’t concern yourself Rufioh, there’s no issue. I’m quite alright, thank you.” He nodded, forcing a smile through his discomfort.
But it’s not convincing enough, which he wanted nothing more than to kick himself over. Rufioh shakes his head, stepping closer. He extends one hand, and then the other slowly, “May I?”
Kankri can’t tell him no. He just can’t. If he wants to hug him, Kankri’s always alright with that. He nods slowly, shuffling towards him a little. He wraps his arms around him slowly, pulling him to his chest. He rest his chin on the top of Kankri’s head, in between his little nubs and a comforting rumble in his chest helps Kankri’s shoulders loosen.
He rubbed up and down his back gently, Kankri’s stomach making things awkward. Rufioh shifted the two of them and Kankri couldn’t clamp down on the groan quick enough. The brownblood glanced down, looking him over.
“You don’t look too hot Kankri. You gonna be sick?”
He shook his head, resting it against his shoulder for a moment before looking up, “No. Thank you, but it’s nothing.”
Rufioh chuckled weakly, “Not so good at that lying stuff. You twist your face up, like it hurts.”
He turned Kankri around slowly, leaning in a little to rest his head on his shoulder, “Not gonna let any of my Lost Boys get down on himself, you feel me?”
Something small and fragile broke in Kankri just then. He cracked under the pressure and sagged against Rufioh. The brownblood caught him, lowering him slowly into the grass, “Woah, woah, woah. Don’t go giving up the ghost on my Vantas.”
A small pathetic laugh escaped him, when all he wanted to do was sob. He was so disgustingly flushed for this troll and in pain and out of his pan and…
Rufioh’s wings closed around them, folding up around him, and he did lose it.
With a whimper he choked out a sob, curling his fingers against Rufioh’s shirt, turning himself against him to bury his face into his shoulder. Rufioh held him close, arms and wings and warmth and smell surrounding him. He let him cry, rubbing his back gently. He never shooshed or papped him. Just let him get it out of his system.
Kankri hiccuped, the contents of his large abdomen shifted suddenly, making him hold his mouth, even if he did known that the collection of material was nowhere near being on the same tract as anything that could come back up, the thought crossed his mind, making it worse. Rufioh brushed a curl out of his hair, leaning him back into his arm, rubbing his stomach in small circles.
The more he pushed, the more Kankri squirmed, small gasps and little pants. His thighs rubbed together and he could feel his nook dripping. He glanced up with dead eyes, trying to will it all away. Rufioh kept up though, feeling the shift under his hand.
“Kinda figured you were feeling shitty. S’alright, I’ll help out.”
Kankri shook his head, “No it- Rufioh please.” The please was either for please stop or please continue. He wasn’t exactly sure himself. He hooked a finger under the edge of his sweater, pulling it up a little to lay his slightly cooler hands flat on his stomach.
“You’re burning up Kankri.” He said softly, concern obvious in his voice.
He shifted the both of them a little more, using both hands to rub opposite circles, applying pressure now and again. Kankri’s knees would have buckled had he been standing. He panted, the fluids wavering under his hands. His lip quivered and Rufioh rubbed his cheek against his face, trying to be reassuring without stepping out into pale.
Kankri could feel the red dripping down the curve of his groin, the ass of his pants already damp as Rufioh unknowingly pressed out all the pent up genetic material.
“Thought we couldn’t get sick Kankri? Bein’ dead and all.” Rufioh inquired, looking over the Vantas in his arm, lifting a hand to wipe away a trail of tears, his wings fluttering against their arms.
“Well it- I-” Could he tell him? Did he have it in him to tell him? Tell him he was sick and it was his own damn fault and he only kept it up for the sake of his vow that he sometimes questioned. He was keeping himself from instinctual needs. He was withholding his own privileges and rights. Things he NEEDED. No! He was stronger than that. He had more important things to do.
But Rufioh with his wings wrapped up around him, it was so beautifully red in and of itself and he just….
Couldn’t lie to him.
“It’s… genetic material.”
Rufioh’s hands passed over his distended gut again, holding the curve of it. “You mean this? All of this?”
“Y…es?” Kankri hazard an answer, already regretting opening his chute.
“How’d you… manage that?”
“A vow of celibacy requires I do not engage in any sexual thoughts or activities. But as a creature that produces quite a lot of genetic material frequently, without release it… tends to build up.” He hissed quietly, shifting in the grass, “And if you would kindly not press so hard, it would be much appreciated. It’s… sore.”
“Why?” Rufioh asked, splaying his fingers wide. Kankri flushed at the sight.
“P-Pardon? Why what?”
“Why do you do this to yourself doll?” Rufioh looked down him as a whole one more time before looking back up at his face, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
Kankri fell silent, unsure what to even say. He had had the same thought a time or two before, but it was quite literally his vow against his health. And his vow was very important to who he was. At least, he thought it was.
Or…
Maybe not?
It was after all just a promise not to do a certain thing. But when his own health and happiness were also put on the line, there was the line? He couldn’t die from this, he was already dead. But that didn’t mean he still couldn’t feel pain. That was was prevalent. The press of Rufioh’s hands again and he groaned quietly, some mix of pain and pleasure.
The brownblood purred reassuringly behind him, hugging around his smaller form tightly before patting his arm, “Can’t leave a cute little blossom like you to hurt like this…”
“But I-”
“If you want, I can promise you that I personally won’t be triggered… This ain’t gonna bother me one bit. Just wanna help…” He said, and there was nothing but sincerity in his voice. Something that was hard to come by in this bubble.
Kankri hiccuped and groaned, “I can’t, no. It’s not right. This is my vow and my burden.”
Rufioh rest his chin on the mutant’s shoulder, brow furrowed in contemplation. He opened his mouth once but decided against it, and spoke up the second time,
“Would it help any if I… said maybe… You’re really pitiful like this?”
A shiver ran down his back and he turned his head, “Exc-” He choked around the word, “Excuse me?!”
“You’re pushing yourself so hard… You’re making yourself hurt… And you still kinda just tell everyone it’s okay. And you need someone to help you out but you don’t want to burden anyone and…. that’s just really pitiful, ya’know?” His blank eyes flicked up after he’d spoken, his hands rubbing gently across Kankri’s abdomen. “Please doll?”
With a shaky sigh, something that might have even been close to a quiet sob he nodded, angling his horns up under the corner of Rufioh’s jaw. He let his shoulders loosen a little, setting his hands on his fellow mutant’s knees. He pulled his sweater up farther, tucking it up under his arms. He brushed his fingers over the three buttons of Kankri’s pants, waiting for permission to keep going.
Slowly the redblood nodded, horns rubbing against his face, curls brushing his skin. Kankri licked his lips, nervous and hesitant. He swallowed hard and sighed quietly when his pants were undone, less pressure on his roiling gut. The edges of his wings fluttered against his arms, leaving a thin layer of dust when they moved.
His hands were calloused from all the rough housing he did, swinging from ropes and sword fighting. But it wasn’t unpleasant. He squirmed when he pressed though, trembling against him. Rufioh hummed quietly, some tune he couldn’t place. Kankri’s claws dug into his pants, pulling at the fringe when he pressed again, a sudden spurt of red staining the crotch of his pants. A low whine in the back of his throat and he tucked his head closer to the other troll. This was disgusting and he hated it. How could he have ever let this happen?
“Shhh, you’re doing good. Hey… do you know the story of Neverland?”
“I’m n-not even sure what that is.” Kankri panted, bucking his hips at the feel of genetic material dripping down his thighs and ass.
“Neverland is an awesome place. I wanna go someday. I’d be King of the Lost Boys and it’d be sick. Sword fights and… yeah. It’d be cool.”
Rufioh’s voice was quiet and soft in his ear, a smile on his lips. Kankri listened, biting his lip at the fire coursing through his veins. He gasped at another small gush of fluid from his nook, spasming now and again, gaping to be filled. His toes curled in his shoes and he fumbled to find some distraction from it.
“T-tell me more about Neverland. It sounds li-like a nice place.”
“Second star on the right… straight on til morning. That’s what they all say. It’s a magical place where no one gets older and everyone’s young and happy forever. No responsibilities and no one to tell you what to do.”
One hand slipped farther, past the edge of his groin to stroke slow lines against his dripping nook. Kanki locked up, lip quivering. He forced himself to speak, “The uh, well our world it- we strive on rules and responsibilities. What would we accomplish if no one had re-re- if no one had a job?”
“Nothing, right on. You’re getting it.” Rufioh chuckled, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy… Whoever Jack is.”
He pushed a finger inside, working at the ripples and folds and contours of his insides. Kankri whimpered quietly, shivering with a chill. But he didn’t fight it. He knew this would help, and it was so wonderfully pitiful, it was enough to break his pusher. He didn’t have the pan to argue that order drove the world, even though he desperately wanted to. Hearing him so passionate about it was good enough.
“Merfolk and fairies and sparrowmen and Indians. The Lost Boys and pirates too! Pupa Pan and the infamous Captain Hook are always sword fighting and treasure hunting. Pupa always beats him though. He’s the leader of the Lost Boys. But I’d beat him, kick him outta his roost and stake the position for myself!”
Careful slow pistons in and out of his finger, a second added in his pause. Kankri wasn’t able to get words in past the panting, which was honestly kind of a blessing.
“I’d be the best father to those boys. I’d be cool.”
“Wh-what’s, what’s a father?” Kankri asked quietly, back arching against him.
Rufioh chuckled quietly at the display, eyes roving over him, “A father? I…. don’t actually know? That’s what the gang all call Pupa Pan. He’s their father. But I’d be a better father. They want a mother too. You think you’d be a good mother Kankri?”
His chest heaved, the genetic material didn’t stop, a slow gradual flow, stronger rivulets making him cry out quietly. Rufioh’s other hand rubbed his slowly shrinking thorax, pushing it all out of his body. Kankri was already sitting in a pool of his own filth, but getting it out of himself, it felt so much better.
“M-maybe.” He answered, not wanting to be rude and ignore a direct question, “I might make a good mother for them. Mother is the position next to father, co-correct?”
He nodded against him, “Yep, I think so.”
“I… think that’d be okay then.” Kankri tried to smile, his face twisting, gasping as everything clenched up wonderfully and horribly all at once.
Rufioh kept up with his careful ministrations, noting silently that Kankri’s bulge had never unsheathed. Had it ever? Did he even have one? He was a mutant after all. He ran his thumb over the sheath and Kankri hissed in pain. He left things alone after that, feeling the troll in his lap tighten up, getting closer to the orgasm he needed so badly.
The weight of all the genetic material he’d stored pushed heavy on his sheath and as much as he felt the need to unsheath, the pressure on it was too much. He’d need to release before he could unsheath and then it would be pointless. But it would feel a lot better without the pain, he was sure of that.
Rufioh could feel him stiffen against him, pushing a little deeper, a little harder, and a little faster, working him up towards that edge. The harsher movement made everything slosh and shift, jostling about in his guts. Kankri moaned through clenched teeth and Rufioh kissed his neck, rubbing his stomach slowly.
He lost it in a beautiful flood of the Empire’s color, emptying obscene amounts of fluid from his body across the grass. He coated Rufioh’s hand, soaking himself through with his own slurry. Unable to inhale through his orgasm, he gasped and laid against the other troll, eyes jammed shut. Rufioh rubbed little circles into his stomach still, pushing the last little trickles from his body. A sheen of sweat across his skin he swallowed hard and nuzzled his face into Rufioh’s neck with a small sigh.
“Feel better?”
Kankri smiled lightly, shifting away from the mess, though it did him no good, it was everywhere. He nodded against him. With a few waves of his hand, this chunk of their bubble constructed mainly from his own memories and thoughts, the mess shrank, drying up, the soil pulling it all in.
Kankri squirmed against him, still exposed.
Rufioh let him go, getting his pants back on, pulled up to his pectorals, which was admittedly hilarious. He rubbed the back of his neck, his hands clean of Kankri’s color already. Kankri smoothed his sweater out carefully, then leveled his eyes on him, trying to find the right words.
“I think you wanna say… ‘thank you’.” The brownblood chuckled.
Kankri nodded quickly, “Of course! Yes, that is what I wanted to say. Thank you. I… will try very hard in the future not to let things of this nature get to out of hand. I do not want to have to trouble you with something like this again. It was insensitive of me to come to you while I should have been indisposed.”
His laugh was cool and calm and made Kankri want to weep. He leaned into the mutant, kissing him gently, “You talk too much Kankri. Just return the pity will ya?”
He sputtered, suddenly bright red, flustered and lost, “I, but the, you can’t, and I-”
Rufioh gave him a crooked smile and Kankri wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face into his hair, “P…pity you Rufioh.”