Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee

Maybe someone else would advise him better. This wasn't the same as a brunch deconstruction like she always did with Hercules. Maybe talking about it would be better for him and she should let him do that.

But sometimes, a distraction was the best way to put things aside. To pull the sting of immediacy out of the moment.

If it was what he wanted, who was she to argue?

Shifting closer, she pulled him into a kiss, pressing herself against him so they could let the heat build up between them immediately. He wasn't the same innocent he'd been the last time he'd been there. She knew that for certain.

So this was fine for him. Maybe a therapist wouldn't think that, but he wasn't looking for one of those right now.

As Mary's lips met his he also shifted closer, putting an arm around her back. He was not the same as the last time with her. Which he liked to think was a good thing.

But he of course still had a lot to learn.

More heat built between them the more they kissed, John's tongue swiping against hers as he deepened it. He shifted closer, his hands going to her hips to pull her flush against him. Or as flush as they could be in the current way they were sitting on his sofa.

One hand began to travel up her back, feeling her body begin to heat under the thin fabric of her shirt. The heat in his own body began to migrate as well.

He couldn't think about this one too much. It made his head hurt when he tried to think about his rider, what it felt like to not be able to fly. It was like he could still feel the pain in nonexistent wings. He didn't like it.

As Boo went on to explain past dreams she'd had, John just stared on in shock and awe, blinking a few times.

"The murder does sound less complicated, yes," he agreed.

Her hand moved down his arm. He felt a chill go up it. She was one he was glad to have found to talk about all of this. She never made him feel judged or bad for being so... inexperienced. In more ways than one. With these dreams, with other aspects of life around Swynlake. And, yeah, sure, the obvious way he had been inexperienced--and still was in a lot of ways.

"I mean... clearly our 'freaks' match up at least a little," he said with a small grin. "I don't think there are too many in town I could share a dreamworld encounter with as bloody dragons, and be able to have a conversation about it the next day." John chuckled, shifting slightly so his knee touched hers. "But here we are..." his hand brushed against her arm now. He would be lying if he said his mind wasn't drifting to the dream. The warmth of the sun, the sound of the creek. Him and Mary...

"That was probably the best part of the dream for me," he admitted, not able to figure out what other way to talk about it, or how to voice his thoughts and feelings on the matter. "It was just rather depressing other than that."

But she relaxed slightly at his follow up sentence. Well. He had been pretty brutally injured for that world. That was unsettling.

"The dreams fade for a lot of people," she said with her best attempt at kindness. "They might remember a few moments that really stood out, or if they try hard to hold onto it, they'll stay and become a story. But you don't have to hold onto it. It was just a dream. You can let all the bad parts go."

For a moment, she thought about that task force Drakken had set up to try and look into the dreams, and wondered if that would be helpful. Or would it only make it worse?

Maybe it was better for John to just come back to reality. To these moments and these choices without any other weight attached to them. "It's up to you what you want to think about right now and what you want to do."

He thought about who he was there. What the dragon version of him had been through.

It just made his head hurt. It made his back hurt and his hands feel cold. Almost like there was more to it all than it just being a dream. Almost like...

"I think... I don't want to think about it right now. I think I want to let it get covered up by new memories," he said quietly. His gaze flitted to Mary's.

"Maybe we should make some new memories? Preferably ones with a few less scales?" he grinned, leaning just a little closer.

It was kind of a strange schedule, and she didn't understand why the pacing was the way it was. Still, better than something happening in December. She was terrified of whatever Christmas hallmark au it would shove them in if it did.

"But yeah, they're usually inspired by some book or tv show or something like that, but it kinda depends. Remember our old Mayor Hades? I had to duel him to the death in a Game of Thrones one. Barely made it through that one. Or in the Regency one, Phil was my boss and got me pregnant. I kind of preferred the murder to be honest." Joking. Kind of.

Shifting closer, she ran one hand down John's arm. "Depends on the person and what you want. I'm happy to talk about stuff. Other people aren't. You find your group that matches your freak and go from there."

He couldn't think about this one too much. It made his head hurt when he tried to think about his rider, what it felt like to not be able to fly. It was like he could still feel the pain in nonexistent wings. He didn't like it.

As Boo went on to explain past dreams she'd had, John just stared on in shock and awe, blinking a few times.

"The murder does sound less complicated, yes," he agreed.

Her hand moved down his arm. He felt a chill go up it. She was one he was glad to have found to talk about all of this. She never made him feel judged or bad for being so... inexperienced. In more ways than one. With these dreams, with other aspects of life around Swynlake. And, yeah, sure, the obvious way he had been inexperienced--and still was in a lot of ways.

"I mean... clearly our 'freaks' match up at least a little," he said with a small grin. "I don't think there are too many in town I could share a dreamworld encounter with as bloody dragons, and be able to have a conversation about it the next day." John chuckled, shifting slightly so his knee touched hers. "But here we are..." his hand brushed against her arm now. He would be lying if he said his mind wasn't drifting to the dream. The warmth of the sun, the sound of the creek. Him and Mary...

"That was probably the best part of the dream for me," he admitted, not able to figure out what other way to talk about it, or how to voice his thoughts and feelings on the matter. "It was just rather depressing other than that."

"I've definitely slept worse," he replied, quirking up his eyebrows. "I have to say that whole experience was quite different from the last one where we just worked in an amusement park." John started to head past her, to his flat just a little bit away. He nodded his head that way, hoping she would follow.

Not for any particular reason, just so they didn't have to talk in the corridor.

"And what about you? Did you enjoy your time as a flying creature? Or--you've lived here for a while; is that like old news to you by now?"

Work could wait a little longer.

Following him into his flat, she easily slipped out of her shoes as soon as she crossed the threshold. Might as well be comfortable to start with. If this was going to be a purely emotional conversation, she wanted to be able to sit curled up on the couch. If they ended up extending that comfort, well, one last barrier.

"It was an interesting one. I had been a cat in one of the April dreams a couple years ago which was pretty fun, but I will give the wings a bonus. I don't have that many chances to fly in real life."

No point bringing up that both of those dreams had included a certain amount of devastating grief as she failed to save the person who mattered to her. That was a minor detail and it wasn't that useful for John right now.

This was only the second dream he'd experienced. And both of the ones he'd had had been... experiences.

"Yeah, they certainly were a fun part to it all," he nodded. Though he didn't do much flying in the dream. He had memories of flying, but... That wasn't something he was capable of by the time he was living in that life.

His back hurt. John went to sit down, inviting Mary to join him if she'd like.

"So these dreams can really be anything, huh? And, I suppose, anything can happen in them..." the amusement park one had been far more tame compared to this one. Nobody had died there.

"Do people usually talk to each other about... how they interacted with one another inside the dreams or am I supposed to just ignore that that happened? And that it happened... as dragons..."

But it meant the unsettling parts of the dream had been talked through and set aside, and she was pleasantly full of Coke and waffles as she made her way back towards the Benbow.

As she got closer, she nearly bumped into John. She wouldn't have thought too much about it if he hadn't blushed and stumbled over his words. Instead, the reaction had her grinning slightly and leaning against the doorway. Well well. Dream follow up part two.

"I'm doing fine. What about you? Sleep well?" she asked, slightly wickedly.

"I've definitely slept worse," he replied, quirking up his eyebrows. "I have to say that whole experience was quite different from the last one where we just worked in an amusement park." John started to head past her, to his flat just a little bit away. He nodded his head that way, hoping she would follow.

Not for any particular reason, just so they didn't have to talk in the corridor.

"And what about you? Did you enjoy your time as a flying creature? Or--you've lived here for a while; is that like old news to you by now?"

That certainly wasn't how it had come off when she'd spoken to that silly little thing Destiny. And while the girl was a rather emotional sort, Cruella generally was more sympathetic to women than to men. Men were, as a general rule, rather idiotic.

John was a perfect example of this. "The posters are one thing. One of my other employees had some first hand experience with you as well you know. It isn't especially looking good for you darling." Not that Cruella cared, but it was annoying when she had only just found a decent PR manager. But not so decent now.

Still, she did so very much love to see a man groveling. That was as it should be really. Cruella glanced John up and down and hummed. "I suppose you could still be of use to me. Though I'm not so certain about PR. You might simply have to redeem yourself to me via a more... personal role. You may be my personal assistant instead, prove yourself to me that you can actually do as I need."

"Yes, okay," he said with a nod, "anything. Let me redeem myself. Please, I just... really need this job. Whatever it is." Maybe he shouldn't say that so explicitly, but it was true. Without this job his source of income was minimal at best. And while he didn't know exactly what he was agreeing to, he figured it had to be better than being unemployed and losing his apartment.

"What will you need me to do?"

He didn’t want to think about it too much.

There was one part he didn’t think about until he was making his way out of Benbow and happened to be at the same time as one of his favorite neighbors. And then that part of the dream came back to him. Slender forms wrapped together, tails twisting and wings extending and—

“Hello, Boo,” he said with a polite nod and smile, only blushing a little bit. Their names were different. And their bodies. But he knew it was her now that they were both awake. “How are you doing this, um… today?”

Kronk gave helpful advice, but the more John listened the more he felt like he was floating away from his body. His mind going to some far away place as he really processed all he said to the other man.

John loved having the appearance of having his shit together. He wanted people to think he knew what he was doing. He never got that luxury with Kronk because even if he hadn’t outright told him this was new for him, it wouldn’t have taken Kronk long to figure out. It was why he was only so close with some members of MAFIA. It was why, deep down, maybe he always knew he would mess things up with Judy and Destiny. Because if you were close with people, they looked at you closely, and when people looked too close, they could see the cracks. They could see the gaps in the act and know that John was bullshitting his way through life.

So he didn’t usually let people so close. He didn’t usually say so much about himself, not in such a real way. He was always honest—he had to be—but he wasn’t always so truthful about himself and his experiences.

Communication was hard, and this was the hard part about it. Letting down those walls, being seen in a way that was so exposing. Maybe it was good they were both already naked as they had this conversation. Everything was out there bare and vulnerable.

John didn’t like that. It’s why his mind drifted, disconnecting. Hiding itself away in some den as Kronk told him life wasn’t a sprint. As he tried to comfort him in a way that maybe reassured some part, but it mostly showed that difference. It wasn’t a sprint, but John was so far behind. He wasn’t even running in the same race, really.

His hand moved over Kronk’s chest, tracing small patterns. Maybe he could have said thanks to Kronk for the advice and taken it to heart. But the word ‘therapy’ burned against his ears. Well, it wasn’t really the whole comment about had he ever talked to anyone else about this. Was he supposed to? When would he have? Who would he have talked to?

“No,” he said softly. “I haven’t.” He shouldn’t have put all this on Kronk either. Every instinct told him to redirect. They were delving too deep. He was exposing too much about himself. What was Kronk going to think about him?

“I’m alright, though,” he said. “I guess everything today just pulled some things forward. I don’t usually—I’m not…” he couldn’t find the words. Because everything he tried to say wasn’t true. “I’ll be fine, I’ll figure it out. You um… thank you for the advice.” His hand shifted across Kronk’s chest, circling his nipple, teasing it until he felt it harden. He kept his face buried in his neck, kissing lightly against his pulse.

Then more. More pressure as he squeezed his pec, his mouth opening so he could run his tongue against his skin, tasting the sweat from their previous activities. He shifted, he other hand running down over his abs.

“You always seem to know just what to say,” he hummed. “And you’re a good listener.” He let his teeth scrape on his neck. “Thank you for listening. I won’t always unload all my personal thoughts on you,” he chuckled a little. “Guess they were just a little too loud this time.”

His hand drifted lower down his stomach until he felt the trail of hair that led so temptingly back to Kronk’s cock.

“You do have to give yourself a little bit of credit though; you are really good at seeming like you’ve got all your shit together,” His voice was breathy. “Or maybe you just fucked me so well it made me miss the signs that you don’t.” He bit his neck playfully.

Normally, John might not care and if the other person didn't seem to mind, he wouldn't mind sharing a table. But when he looked up he couldn't help but realize he recognized her.

"Oh, hello," he smiled. "Joy, isn't it? It's good to see you again." Then, realizing perhaps she didn't recognize him as quickly, he added, "I'm John. From the letters thing... How are you?"

She had a few more magicks shipped in secretly, she had barely thwarted off the threat of valentines day with her husband, and her daughter had rather irritatingly got in touch with her about some charity event she had no real interest in.

It was a great deal to think about. Far more than whether or not her PR manager was actually of any use. Though considering he needed his own PR manager now, the answer to that seemed rather obvious.

She opened the door to his face just then and scowled, nearly slamming the door in his face despite the coffee. "I'm always busy Mr. Worthington. More so now that my PR manager is his own sort of disaster." She scoffed and stepped back, opening the door a bit wider so he could come in.

"You have 30 minutes of my time before I have to take care of my other obligations. Do not waste my time."

He'd been in her home briefly before, but this time he noticed something different. Not visually--of course the place was immaculate. It was the smell. Faint and distant, but he couldn't help but notice it. The smell of magic. Perhaps she had on a magic item recently though--she was a collector--or maybe one of her housekeepers were Magicks. He didn't know. It didn't matter to him, that wasn't what he was here for. But the scent still tickled at the back of his nose.

Thirty minutes. Okay. He could make that work, right?

"This whole situation has been a huge misunderstanding," he began. "And I can assure you this won't happen again. The whole mess with those posters was some petty third party getting involved for who knows what reason. I just-- this is not a usual occurrence for me, Mrs. De Vil, I have never found myself in a position like that before."

He'd never found himself in a position like this before either. Where he had to beg to keep his job. Not that he was begging or really wanted to. But...

"I am sorry if any of my mess has had any impact on you and I am doing everything that I can to make sure all of this gets sorted and won't impact my work in any way. Just please... let me have a chance to prove that to you."

It was a lot, getting fucked through his orgasm. It made everything heighten. It wasn’t a bad thing, it was just a lot.

Kronk buried himself deep inside his ass, and John felt the force at which he came. And fuck it was a different feeling. John moaned, pressing his ass back against Kronk’s hips even more, another wave of pleasure drowning him both from the feeling and just from the thought alone knowing he was filled with Kronk’s cum.

“Holy shit,” he exhaled as Kronk slowly pulled out, dragging his mess with him. It spilled out of him, running down between his cheeks.

“You were so fucking good,” he replied breathlessly, finally letting his face and chest press against the mattress. “That was amazing. God, you’re fucking amazing.”

John twisted slightly so he could look back at Kronk, his eyes falling to his cum covered cock. He chewed the inside of his lip. His gaze drifted slightly to Kronk’s hand and the mess John had made of it.

“It’s definitely messier this way,” he breathed a laugh as he turned back to press his face against the cool blanket. The sweat on the back of his neck was starting to dry and leave a chill to his hot skin that wasn’t unwelcome. “But it’s so good. You felt so damn good inside me like that…”

A shiver went through him as Kronk started to massage him, his muscles that had become so tight and tense loosening under the chef’s careful touch.

“I am too,” he agreed. He really had enjoyed himself, more than he ever would have thought. All of this with Kronk was so new, and every experience just made it all the better.

The way he kept leaking out of him was such a strange yet delightful feeling. And that was the best way to describe so much of this. It was different and strange but so so good.

John melted further into the bed the more Kronk massaged him and teased him. He did grimace a little to himself as his stomach touched the bedding and he felt his own mess sticking to his skin as well as the fabric. He’d already made a mess of the blanket anyway.

“Well, better to be a mess in here in a fun way rather than the public spectacle I’ve been making of myself,” he let out a soft sigh.

As good as Kronk’s hands on his back felt, John wanted to look at the other man. He twisted, flipping to lay on his back so he could look up at Kronk’s face, framed so nicely by loose strands of hair and a light sheen of sweat making his skin glow. He was truly a sight to behold.

“Can I ask,” he started, hoping he wasn’t overstepping before he even started to speak, “how’d you figure out all these things you like. Just… moments like this, where you had a partner willing to try? Or did they propose things? Has there been anything you’ve tried that you never wanted to try again?”

There were some things John wondered about. Like when Kronk had spanked him. He liked that, but at the same time, he was reminded of far less fun and playful times in his life he’d been struck.

“There’s stuff that… I don’t know, it’s stuff I don’t really know anything about. And I would maybe be open to trying things but… what if I don’t like it in the moment? What if I get stressed about it and want them to stop—but at the same time not wanting it to stop? I…” he thought about it for a moment, glancing off to the side, his hands resting on his abdomen. “I guess you could say I have some personal baggage I don’t quite love to unpack. And as we’ve learned from this whole… flyer thing, I’m maybe not the best with communication. And I just… how do I get better at it all? At the talking about it all and knowing what to do right and to stop myself from doing the wrong thing? How do I get past it and… and learn these things about myself and relationships I have with people when I feel like I’m so new at it all?”

There was more to say, about his concerns and his thoughts and how out of touch with himself and others that he felt. But he’d already said a lot. He did that—he talked too much. But so rarely said the right things.

“I just feel so behind in everything. I feel like I know I’m messing things up but don’t know how to stop it or do better.” He looked at Kronk apologetically as he realized he was just dumping all this on him out of seemingly nowhere.

But it was all connected in some weird way, and it all tied back to the reason that brought him here today in the first place.

“Like this—it’s probably a bit strange to get a little deeply personal after you’ve just fucked me raw like that but… I don’t know. Is there an etiquette to this? Is it okay that I’m asking you all these questions?” If Kronk grew sick of the questions, he did know a few good ways to get John to stop talking.

It wasn’t like John had been fucked a lot or anything, but he’d never been fucked like this.

The rawness of it, the force, it was more than he’d ever felt, his mind blanking as stars covered the insides of his eyelids.

“Oh, fuck, Kronk…” he exhaled as Kronk’s moan turned to words, praising him and allowing his release, and John did exactly what he was told. His breath shuddered as he came hard, his muscles twitching and tightening as Kronk continued to stroke and fuck him through his orgasm. His breaths turned to moans, which turned to whimpers as it seemed like every last drop was squeezed from him.

Kronk fucked him through his orgasm, hips thrusting and stuttering as his cock felt John's ass clench around him, it only took a few more thrusts after John started whimpering for Kronk to crest over his own threshold and empty out into his ass, hips jerking as he held his hips against John's ass, a strained moan falling from his mouth. "Fuck..yes.." Pleasure coursing through his body from his core and through his limbs as he felt the rush of getting to come inside the other man.

All the power, all the release and tension flowing out of him as he panted, hips coming to a stop as he chuckled, almost feeling light headed.

His hands and grip softened, running along John's hips and sides as he slowly pulled out from him, looking at the mess he'd made on himself and the mess that dripped out of John once he was empty. It was fucking hot. "You were so good." He said still catching his breath, still grinning though he was definitely feeling that heavy feeling in his limbs, "God, that was fucking great."

It was a lot, getting fucked through his orgasm. It made everything heighten. It wasn’t a bad thing, it was just a lot.

Kronk buried himself deep inside his ass, and John felt the force at which he came. And fuck it was a different feeling. John moaned, pressing his ass back against Kronk’s hips even more, another wave of pleasure drowning him both from the feeling and just from the thought alone knowing he was filled with Kronk’s cum.

“Holy shit,” he exhaled as Kronk slowly pulled out, dragging his mess with him. It spilled out of him, running down between his cheeks.

“You were so fucking good,” he replied breathlessly, finally letting his face and chest press against the mattress. “That was amazing. God, you’re fucking amazing.”

John twisted slightly so he could look back at Kronk, his eyes falling to his cum covered cock. He chewed the inside of his lip. His gaze drifted slightly to Kronk’s hand and the mess John had made of it.

“It’s definitely messier this way,” he breathed a laugh as he turned back to press his face against the cool blanket. The sweat on the back of his neck was starting to dry and leave a chill to his hot skin that wasn’t unwelcome. “But it’s so good. You felt so damn good inside me like that…”

John’s moans were getting lost as he tried to maintain his breath. Each thrust cutting the sound short, leaving desperate airy whimpers to fall from his gaping mouth.

His muscles tightened as he took it all, his arms and shoulders straining and tense as he supported himself.

His eyes were shut tight, brow furrowed as he teetered on that line of pleasure and pain.

Excitement spilled down his spine, following Kronk’s hand as it left his shoulder. Because he knew where it was going. John still gasped as his large hand wrapped firmly around his cock, his mind blanking as his senses were all over taken.

“Oh fuck—“ he whined, that edge nearing faster as he was fucked into Kronk’s grip. “Yes… yes—!” He moaned louder, his cry getting forced out of him the more Kronk rammed into his ass.

“Please—“ he gasped, unable to think or focus as he felt his climax building closer. “I’m so close—please let me cum, let me cum for you I want to so fucking bad.” His cock leaked, making every stroke of Kronk’s fist slicker.

John clenched around his cock. “I can’t— I’m going to cum,” his breath shook more than his arms as he did his best to hold on, his entire body wound taught and ready to burst. “Please. Kronk I— oh god, Kronk…!”

It wasn’t like John had been fucked a lot or anything, but he’d never been fucked like this.

The rawness of it, the force, it was more than he’d ever felt, his mind blanking as stars covered the insides of his eyelids.

“Oh, fuck, Kronk…” he exhaled as Kronk’s moan turned to words, praising him and allowing his release, and John did exactly what he was told. His breath shuddered as he came hard, his muscles twitching and tightening as Kronk continued to stroke and fuck him through his orgasm. His breaths turned to moans, which turned to whimpers as it seemed like every last drop was squeezed from him.