Chapter Text
Nine months. That’s how long it had been since the first time Luigi and Bowser had, unexpectedly and rather abruptly, had sex at the urging of their secondary genders. The second through fifth times, however, had been anything but abrupt and accidental. Luigi had a…routine, now. As soon as he noticed the first signs of his rut incoming, he’d pack a bag, let his brother and the Princess know he was leaving for a few days (they never called him on the fact that they all knew why he was leaving) and drive to the Koopa Kingdom. One time, over afternoon tea, Princess Peach had offered an alternative method, one Luigi couldn’t accept.
“Why don’t you take one of the hot air balloons? They’ll most likely be a faster means of travel to wherever it is you’re going.” Luigi had almost dropped his teacup in shock.
Fumbling with the porcelain, he’d stuttered out “oh, no, that’s alright, it’s really not- it’s just- you know how clumsy I am. Probably would crash the silly thing on my own, and then I’d be stranded! At least with driving I- I probably won’t crash, you know?” Peach eyed him over the rim of her own cup. After taking a tortuously long sip, she set it back on its saucer and sighed.
“Alright, if you’re sure. The offer is always open.” Luigi had thanked her and forcibly moved the conversation back over to the upcoming Chlorophos Festival she was planning. It was true that Luigi wasn’t exactly a deft hand at operating hot air balloons, but more than that, he knew they were much more noticeable, much more trackable. If anyone in the Mushroom Kingdom saw the balloon headed East, they might start to suspect where he was going. Maybe the average citizen wasn’t so tuned into his life or observant about the passing of every hot air balloon that left the Kingdom, but Peach and Mario would certainly notice. They’d start asking questions, questions Luigi couldn’t lie about with any kind of skill, let alone answer truthfully.
At least having a regular rut partner had lengthened out the time between the events. According to the books from Professor Toadsworth, this was a fairly normal reaction (‘with the uncertainty of finding a mate eliminated, the biological imperatives of alphas and omegas relax, and the cycle length extends, which allows for greater likelihood on conception and emphasis on allocation of nutrients in the body going towards the presumably fertilized egg’) Luigi was…fairly certain that neither of them could impregnate the other. Despite the greater fertility of Alphas and Omegas, him and Bowser were completely different species. That had to prevent anything from happening. His worries kept growing until they surpassed his anxiety about broaching the topic with Bowser by the third time they’d spent their cycles together. It wasn’t that he was exactly scared, anymore. It was just…well frankly they didn’t tend to talk much anyway, outside of sex, and even though they had their arrangement it still seemed like a personal question to ask. But he’d managed, during one of the brief moments of respite from the overwhelming need to fuck and be fucked and to lick Bowser’s neck near his scent glands to get a taste of bitter cocoa…Luigi had to shake his head clear before moving on with his question.
“Bowser?” he’d said tentatively.
“Hmm?” The Koopa was laying on his side next to him in the bed, eyes closed, not quite sleeping, but getting as much rest as he could during their brief respite.
“Is it-that is to say, would you be worried about…is there concern of…” even during the midst of heat, with only a single tired eye cracked open, Bowser’s glare managed to be intimidating. “...pregnancy?” Luigi finally managed to eke out. Bowser maintained eye contact.
“No; conception for Koopas is rare, even between…mated pairs.” Bowser’s eye closed. “Let alone the fact that there hasn’t been a single reported instance of a cross species Koopa pregnancy, as I’ve mentioned.”
“Really? Not even once?” Luigi found himself asking. Bowser smirked.
“Why do you ask? Is your Alpha demanding that you fill me up until I welp?”
It was the last thing on Luigi’s mind; in fact, it’s one of the things he’d worried about the most (right behind anyone from the Mushroom Kingdom, but especially Princess Peach or Mario, finding out about his and Bowser’s ‘arrangement’). But something about the tone of Bowser’s voice hit his rut addled brain in just the right way and he could suddenly see it: pumping load after load into his Omega, keeping him locked in place with his knot, fucking his own cum into that hungry cunt deeper and deeper, until he was sure it took. Bowser gave a sharp inhale and he sat up, pupils wide and scent deepening into a burnt sugar.
“You are,” he growled, leaning forward to mouth at Luigi’s ear. Luigi shuddered as teeth grazed his oversensitive skin. Luigi had only half stuttered protests out of his mouth before Bowser’s hand slipped down between his legs and caused curses to fall off his lips instead.
Apart from awkward passes at conversation with Peach and Mario, and longer cycles, Luigi’s day to day life hadn’t changed much since his arrangement with Bowser. Him and his brother still went on adventures; he helped the Toads in the small villages near the castle with their smaller day to day problems; their friends met for Friend Dinner Fridays. Those short periods of time every six to eight weeks felt…isolated, completely separate from his actual life. And it seemed like it was the same for Bowser.
Luigi’s routine wasn’t perfectly timed to their cycles, of course, so he’d generally just…linger around the castle for a while, sometimes a whole day or two (it was a little odd, maybe, that he never was attacked or even bothered during that time, that he’d always managed to find a well furnished room to sleep in), until Bowser’s scent got so strong Luigi could follow it through the twisting corridors to whatever meeting room he was holed up in. He’d hole up in some alcove, waiting for the Magikoopas, Goombas, Shy Guys, and other beings to exit before stealing into the room, finally getting to witness Bowser in all his kingly glory, lounged on whatever designated seat the room had for him (merda, the sight of Bowser’s thick thighs spread across the throne made his fingers twitch and stomach tighten whenever he recalled the memory of it), staring intently at Luigi like he’d known Luigi was coming in, was anticipating it.
From then on, his attention would be solely on Luigi, on them both, their shared ecstasy. Holed up in his royal chamber, not a thought for any kingdoms or responsibilities. But it would always come to an end. The period of time between the last round of sex and Luigi leaving was…awkward. Coming out of their heat and rut haze, taking turns washing up in the bathroom, Luigi scrambling to find where his clothes had been flung across the room. The first time, he’d left without even saying goodbye, while Bowser was in the bathroom, but Bowser had made it clear next time that that wasn’t acceptable.
(“I would see you out of my castle, this time,” he’d muttered against Luigi’s nape as he rolled his hips, cock dragging deliciously against Luigi’s walls. Luigi struggled to find the words to respond, whether from shock or pleasure he couldn’t tell. Bowser continued regardless, continuing to thrust faster. “While you’re in here, you’re under my domain. You don’t get to leave until I say so, understand? In here, you’re mine.” The pressure of his cock wedged between his stomach and the mattress, Bowser’s relentless grinding, and the heat of his words against his skin had Luigi cumming and stuttering in agreement.)
Bowser was always perfunctory with escorting Luigi out of the castle. He walked slower than usual (and if some part of Luigi got satisfaction out of that, he quickly shoved it down), but still faster than Luigi, as he led him to one of the less used exits of the castle. He would open the door, give him a brisk nod, and shut the door perfunctorily after Luigi exited.
They never touched once their cycles were done. And that was fine, Luigi would tell himself as he drove back to the Mushroom Kingdom, alone, in his kart. For once in his life, his variable gender wasn’t a burden, he was desired, and it was (mostly) not dangerous. This was fine, more than fine, it was great, Luigi told himself.
Even if it meant lying to the most important people in his life.