Just A Totally Casual Fan

No one got to see Mountain like this except for him. At least, that's what Dew told himself. The drummer's legs were thrown up over the Fire Ghoul's slim shoulders, ankles locked behind his head as the twiggy Fire Ghoul gripped those muscled thighs, humping into him like a rabbit.

They rarely coupled, and more often than not Dew was the one on the bottom, drooling into the mattress while the drummer's sizable shaft split him apart. He loved feeling small and helpless under the ginormous Earth Ghoul. But other times, rarely, Mountain wanted to switch; wanted to feel Dew looming diminutively over him while the guitarist clutched at his hips and rutted into him like he was trying to get to the other side.

The Earth Ghoul was never demeaning about it. He never looked down—except literally—onto Dew and his skills in the bedroom. They shared the experience of years at the Ministry, going through numerous Papas—and elemental changes in Dew's case—and still they'd managed to make it out on the other side.

Which was probably why Dew fell into the Earth Ghoul's warm, moss-green sheets so often now. They had a history together that no one else could hope to come between. The guitarist felt a safety with Mountain that he couldn't find anywhere else. There was also the fact that through the long years, never once had the drummer teased him about his size.

"Go on. Get it all out for me, my pretty water lily." Those few words had weight. A weight that Dew almost didn't catch as his hips jack-rabbited forward, pumping himself into the long-limbed drummer, fucking Mountain like a little angry Energizer Bunny.

Mountain's voice held a whisper of condescension behind it, but he was always more than sweet to the Fire Ghoul. He loved seeing the effect that his body had over the pack's haughty little firecracker. And more often than not Dew was always too fucked out to even realize that the Earth Ghoul was sweet-talking and purring nicknames at him.

"Feels so good. Dewy," the drummer moaned, tightening his muscles just to watch Dew's brow furrow with renewed concentration, trying his best not to spill too soon. But it was always a losing battle. Mountain's channel was slick and hot, fluttering around him like a vice he never wanted to escape from.

"Nngh- Mount- so tight -Fuck!"

The Earth Ghoul chuckled to himself, knowing that whenever Dew started swearing in bed he was definitely close. The drummer hissed as the Fire Ghoul dug his claws into his thighs, snaking one of his own hands down to encircle his leaking shaft, neglected on his furred stomach.

He knew that Dew loved to watch, eyes flicking between Mountain's face and his blurred hand, stroking in time with the Fire Ghoul's frantically mounting thrusts. Dew's breath was furnace-hot against his thigh, nuzzling and bucking into the large Earth Ghoul.

Mountain couldn't stop a groan from flying from his mouth; he could never hide his true arousal in bed. He'd feel bad for egging someone on like that, and he was pretty easy to rile up regardless. The guitarist's panting moans were getting more frequent as he finally jerked to a stop, burying himself up to the root inside the Earth Ghoul's sweat-slick body.

"Oh-! Gonna co- shit!" Dew's whine was long and high, a panting release as he tipped over the edge of his climax, watching with hungry eyes as Mountain spilled with a groan too, sticky spurts across his taut stomach—as if it was being forced out of him with every one of the guitarist's staccato thrusts.

Their pleasure cooled to a dribble, a sticky-sweet press of their bodies as Mountain tugged Dew against his chest in the afterglow.

"You did such a good job, firefly," Mountain praised, watching Dew try to fight off the blush that spread across his sharp cheekbones.