Dragon 'Rider'

You all but trip and stumble through the door, just catching yourself before your head bounces off the floor. Your ears ring with the memory of a geiger counter’s clicking and a desperate, angry plea to look into the shark’s eyes. You sit up and rub your eyes, the toxic neon green still burned into your vision. When the pulsing and the ringing go quiet, the glow dims, and that horrific migraine lessens just a little bit.

Your body aches when you get back on your feet, but it comes with the territory. You just tell yourself it’s a sign of progress, that maybe this time you’ll actually get to the end. You know that’s probably not true, though. If you were a betting expendable (and you might as well be considering you are an expendable to begin with), there’s a decent chance that you’ll get your head blown clean off by a turret in the next room. You’ve gotten far enough without seeing one so you’re fairly certain the fates are going to fuck you over. 

Let’s get this over with, then.

You don’t even really register the vent until you’ve passed it by. You immediately stop dead in your tracks, turning and walking over. Crouching, all you see is darkness. Odd, usually Sebastian would pop the vent open and call out to you as you’re passing by, but it seems radio quiet on his end. Maybe he didn’t hear you come in, or maybe he’s not in the shop? He probably wouldn’t appreciate you coming in if that was the case.

Well, that’s too damn bad, you at least need the keycard to move forward. 

You pull the vent cover away, hear a hissing sound and almost smash your head when you look up and around. Nothing. You look to the lights, watching them for a telltale flicker. There’s nothing by the door either. You think maybe you’re imagining things until you hear it again, a little louder this time, and realize it’s coming from the vent. You stay still, just listening, staring into the darkness. 

A moment passes and it’s a new noise; a strained groan, and you immediately recognize Sebastian’s voice. So he is in the shop, and when you hear him growl through grit teeth, you feel a pang of worry. Is he hurt or something? You don’t know what you can do for him, he probably has a medkit already, but he might appreciate the sentiment. Probably enough to lower the price of his wares for today. Not by much, but enough. 

You push the vent cover leading into his shop open. It clatters loudly on the floor, and you’ve barely gotten your head through the vent before you see beady glowing eyes and the barrel of his gun. You immediately throw your hands up and yell “HOLY SHIT!”

Sebastian’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing again. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“What am I— what do you mean ‘what am I doing here?!’ And put the goddamn gun down!”

He lowers the gun so it’s pointing in front of you as opposed to at you, but he doesn’t put it away. Now that you’re less worried about getting shot in the face, you notice his odd positioning. Most of his body is curled up and turned to the corner, and instead of turning to face you, he’s glaring at you from over his shoulder. The lure on his head is dim, so you can only see his eyes and the glint of his teeth when it comes to facial expressions. While most of his form is shrouded in darkness, you can see him shivering a little, and his breathing seems a little laboured. You can’t see where his left or lower arm is, but you guess he’s applying pressure to his possible wounds. There’s no doubt that something is wrong.

You scoot forward and he lifts the gun again. “Shop’s closed. Go away.”

“No.”

It’s pointed right at your forehead. “I wasn’t asking. Get out.”

“Sebastian, dude, I need the keycard at least,” you tell him, scooting a little more.

“Then grab it and get the hell out already!”

“Are you okay?” you ask as you slowly crawl to the desk.

He just laughs. “Oh, I’m just great right now, or I was until you showed up.”

“You know, I wasn’t even going to come in until I heard you in here.”

“You what?!”

You flinch out of habit, like flinching would do anything other than delay your head popping by maybe half a second. “Y-Yeah, I heard you, and wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Oh, oh great, first moment of actual privacy and of course you had to ruin it.”

“Well fuck me for being worried about the closest thing to a friend I have in this hellhole,” you say, “next time you’re all beat to shit and crying about it, I’ll let you wallow in pain instead of come in and tend to your wounds. Like friends do.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re hurt,” you tell him, “you probably got jumped when you were looting my corpse or some shit, and now you’re acting like a dick about it.”

“… They’re really sending their brightest expendables down here, huh?”

You roll your eyes. You dig through your inventory and pull out the medkit you had on you. You place it on the ground and slide it over Sebastian’s way. “Patch yourself up.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You clearly do.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Then what’s with all the groaning and moaning?”

Sebastian stares at you like you’re stupid, gun still aimed at you. You just sit on the floor, your hands still up. He says nothing, leaving you to wonder what his deal is. You can understand he doesn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, but if he’s hurt so badly that his shop is closed, you’d think he’d at least take the medkit. Why is he refusing your help? Why is he acting so hostile towards you? How are you invading his privacy—

Oh.

Oh.

Those weren’t groans of pain.

“Ah…”

“You need another minute or two to figure it out? Maybe a hint?”

“I-I… I didn’t… I thought you were hurting, genuinely.”

“I appreciate the concern, now get out of my shop. I’m in the middle of something.”

You glance at the vent as you lower your aching arms, then back at Sebastian, and alternate between the two. You can tell he’s really considering killing you, probably deciding if your corpse would kill the mood or not. You personally would have considered the mood dead on arrival the moment someone walked in on you masturbating, but your circumstances are pretty different from Sebastian’s. This is probably one of the few moments of genuine privacy he’s gotten since he first arrived. 

He motions to the vent with his gun. “Just out the way you came in, in case you’re too stupid to remember.”

“… Need a hand?”

“Oh fuck off.”

Maybe it’s the pang of sympathy you feel for the guy. Maybe it’s because you find his snarky commentary occasionally charming and his fishy appearance weirdly cute. Maybe it’s because you haven’t had any action in some time. You don’t know, you just start moving slowly towards him. 

“What are you doing?” Sebastian snarls.

“Do you need a hand,” you ask again, “or, um… a hand that isn’t a claw?”

“You’re really funny, you know? That must be why you’re here, you got busted by comedy police and they put you on death row because you’re so funny.”

You decide not to entertain that remark and continue forward.

“I’m serious, I don’t need your help.”

“But do you want my help?”

The lure on Sebastian’s head pulses, and his eyes widen for a second. You see his expression shift from homicidal annoyance to sheer bafflement. 

“You… you serious?”

You nod. “I mean, if you’d rather deal with it alone, I’ll back off,” you tell him, “but if you’re open to it, I can help you out.”

You’re close to him now, enough that you can see him better while giving him space. Up close, you see his fingers not even on the trigger, meaning he didn’t really have any intention of shooting you. He narrows his eyes when they meet yours, trying to read your intentions. 

He lowers the gun fully, holstering it. “There’s something deeply wrong with you,” he says. “It’s not even funny. I hope you know that.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Sebastian mumbles curses under his breath, averting his eyes. “L-Look, you know I’m not going to have anything… normal, right?”

“I figured as much,” you reply, “I think it would be weirder if you did have something normal.”

He gives you a look, and you take that as a sign that maybe you should pump the breaks on the sarcasm for a minute or two.

“I’m going to show you what we’re talking about,” he continues, “and I don’t want to hear any snarky comments, no ‘oh my god what is that,’ none of it. Just say if you can handle it or not, and we’ll leave it at that. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Okay, just close your eyes and keep them closed until I say it’s okay.”

You sit back and place your hands over your eyes. You hear Sebastian’s massive body twist and slither into a better position, one that isn’t facing the corner. You scoot back a bit to give him some wiggle room. 

“Alright, just don’t freak out…”

For a moment, you’re hesitant to actually look at him. You count to three in your head and the moment you drop your hands, your eyes lock onto it and can’t pull away. Or, rather, you lock onto them.

You blink. “… There’s two.”

Sebastian looks down. “So there is. By the way, I didn’t know you could count that high.”

They’re certainly something. They look like tentacles, starting thick at the bases and tapering off, except blunter at the tips and without the suction cups. At the base, you can see them poking out from some sort of slit. Their sizes, while not impossibly huge, are nothing to scoff at either. The whole situation looks like something you’d find on one of those fantasy sex toy websites, and using that analogy, you’d say Sebastian’s ordeal is probably a size or maybe even two sizes too much. Something you could maybe work your way up to, but it’s sure as hell not happening today.

“… Huh.”

“So?”

After a moment, you speak. “I’m, uh, I’m going to level with you, I think if I tried to take even one of these, I’ll hurt something.”

“What do you…” Sebastian makes a strangled sound that he covers with a laugh. “You were seriously thinking about me putting them in?! God, there really is something wrong with you! I thought you were offering me a handjob or something.”

You feel yourself blush. “That might be a little more doable.”

You look up at Sebastian. The instant your eyes meet his, he tries to look elsewhere. You consider teasing him about how someone who is as big an asshole as him could possibly get so flustered, but you refrain. The thought occurs to you that the sudden hesitation might not just be Sebastian’s surprise, but that he genuinely wasn’t expecting this in the slightest, and now doesn’t know what to do about it. With how long he’s been locked up, with everything that’s been done to him, you’ll likely be the first to touch him without the intent to hurt him.

“I know how you are about touch,” you say, your voice soft, “so if I do something or touch somewhere you don’t like, let me know. Otherwise, I’m just… gonna kind of go for it and see what works, but I’ll let you know what I’m going to do.”

“Alright,” he says, with a sort of impatient indifference that poorly hides his reluctance to actually look at you. 

“Okay, I’m going to touch you now, just… give me a second.”

Because Sebastian is significantly larger than you, you actually have to stand up to get a less awkward angle. Gently, you rest your hands on his waist, just to sort of brace yourself. His scales feel warm against your palms, which is unexpected but not entirely unpleasant. He flinches initially at the contact, but forces himself to stay put. You end up leaning against him, pressing your body to his still mostly coiled tail. Again, he tenses at your contact, and you wait for any sort of sign that he wants you to stop. He just watches you with those literally bright blue eyes and slightly flushed cheeks, and the sight is oddly cute. 

You look at his dicks, and nervously gulp. They look slick, even without the precum leaking from their tips. Your hand hovers in the air for a moment, while you assess Sebastian’s body language and take a second to ask yourself if you are earnestly, genuinely going to jerk off a giant fish man. You decide you are, because Urbanshade and all the other experiments trapped inside have been figuratively fucking you already, so you might as well have a say when it comes to literal fucking. Plus, Sebastian is actually attractive (though you are loathed to admit that), especially compared to everything else around here.

You don’t even wrap your hand around him. Your fingers graze his lower cock and his body jerks on instinct and he hisses through his teeth. You quickly pull your hand away like you’ve just touched a hot stove, and you look up at him. The glow of his lure pulses, and the dark blue staining his cheeks has spread. He watches you with lidded eyes, his shining pupils so wide they take up the entirety of his eyes. With that as your assurance, you bring your hand back, and you actually take hold of his cock.

Like you thought, it’s slick already, and feels warm and smooth. He barely holds himself back when he feels your hand wrap around him, but nothing stops the strangled sound that slips out when your hand slowly slides up his length, nor does it stop him from thrusting forward to try and meet your hand again. The hand still holding his waist squeezes tight so you don’t stagger back when he does that, and it only helps a little. You continue pulling your hand up, slowly, before sliding it down his length. Sebastian’s head tilts back with a groan that sounds more like a growl, and you see him clawing at the concrete walls, trying to ground himself.

You feel warmth pulse in your lower half, and when you slowly pump your hand back up and down and hear his restrained moans, you feel your mouth start to water. You’re surprised that he’s already this riled up with such a sluggish pace. Surely he wasn’t that close to finishing when you walked in, was he? Especially after the initial confrontation, you think that might have bought him a little time. 

“You’re real sensitive, huh?”

“Fucking obviously,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “I-I don’t know if you figured it out already, but– fuck, there aren’t a lot of options for getting laid, n-not to mention not getting a-any time alone or time at all to really get anything done.”

You pick up the pace a little, and you see his claws leaving visible scratches in the wall. “So am I the first–”

“Yes, yes, first person I’ve been with since lock up. The others aren’t– ngh, aren’t my type. Maybe more your type s-since you’re doing this in the first place.”

You won’t argue with him because then you’d have to admit to him that you think he’s the only hot one out of everyone here, and there’s honestly not much else you can say to defend yourself.

Hearing Sebastian struggle to hide his moans and groans, raspy growls that are more endearing than intimidating, makes your heart flutter. You move your hand up and down a little faster now, the slickness coating his cock allowing you to do so with ease, and Sebastian’s voice cracks a little bit. 

“Fuck, like that,” he rasps, “f-feels good.”

You eye his neglected cock, still leaking and twitching with want every time your knuckles graze it. Poor thing must be lonely, you think. You’re about to move the hand holding his waist when Sebastian’s body jolts again, not as much as earlier but it startles you enough that you lose focus and have to grab him again. You can probably manage to jerk both of them off, but the current arrangement might make things awkward to do. Then an idea occurs to you.

Your hand stops, and Sebastian’s pupils shrink to neon pinpoints for a second. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Can you uncoil yourself? I have an idea.”

He wipes a bit of drool from his mouth and without argument, he complies. You have to sadly let him go so he can stretch out. He rests against the wall, and you approach him again.

“I’m gonna straddle your tail,” you say, “I think it’ll work better that way. Is that okay–”

His claws are on you and you’re pulled onto his tail. “Yes, fine, whatever, keep going.”

You nod, and look down at his lengths. You wrap your hands around them, and Sebastian’s tail jolts. You steady yourself by squeezing your legs around him, pressing against his scales through the jumpsuit and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You get right to it, pumping your hands up and down, and clearly he can’t handle both at once. The sounds you pull from him are louder, more desperate, despite how hard he tries to hide it. His lure is glowing brighter, his ear fins twitch, and you see his sharp teeth as he pants. He’s still clawing at the walls, but he’s starting to leave deeper cracks and scratches. Your pace with your non-dominant hand is a little sloppier, but if Sebastian has noticed, he either doesn’t care or is too caught in the moment to make fun of you for it. It doesn’t stop his tail from twitching and squirming, which causes you to grind into him in your attempt to stay on him. 

“Fuck, fffuck,” he moans, “y-you’re not half bad at this.”

Not half bad, hm?

You slide back a little on his tail. Sebastian blinks, watching you as you then lean forward. You give him a smile, and open your mouth.

Whatever restraint Sebastian has disappears when he feels your mouth envelop him. His voice breaks and he thrusts up on pure instinct. You’re hit with the taste of bitter salt for half a second before you feel him almost hit the back of your throat. You gag, pulling back to cough. You look up to glare at him, but your breath catches in your throat at the state he’s in.

His breathing is deep and laboured, drool running down from his mouth. His eyes, bright and feral, never leave you. You’d probably be scared if you saw him like this, but instead, it just makes you hornier. If it weren’t for his flushed cheeks and the debauched sounds he’s been making, you’d think he was starving, eyeing you up as his next meal, but you know he’s not. Not in that way, anyways. Knowing you’re responsible for getting him to this point invigorates you to keep going, morbidly curious and desperate to see how far you can push him.

Still stroking his other cock, you lean down and lick at his tip. You try not to cringe a little at his taste, focusing on how you feel him pulse in your hands and on your tongue, and the way his growling gives way to what almost sounds like whining. You wrap your lips around his tip and lightly suck on it, moaning as you rub yourself against him. 

“More, m-more, please,” Sebastian pleads. You feel his third hand on your head, and it gently pushes on your head. You use the word “gently” lightly as you can feel the urgency in his gesture. Looking up, you see it too. Sebastian’s bitten his lip and drawn blood, and the grooves in the wall from his claws are really visible now. You hum around him and take more of him into your mouth. He pulls his hand back so he doesn’t try to shove your head down further, and he only thrusts up a little bit so you don’t choke on him. You bob your head up and down, with your hand still stroking the part that won’t fit in your mouth and eagerly pumping his other cock. You take a second to actually switch hands, as the warmth of your mouth surely makes up for the lack of skill of your non-dominant hand. 

Sebastian stops holding back his moans. Whether or not he’s just given up or if he’s too lost to focus doesn’t matter as the melodic sound of his full voice moaning and pleading you for more is music to your ears. You pick up the pace, both on your sucking and stroking, and on your grinding against him. Sure, you went along with this because you were curious and admittedly pent up, but you didn’t think you’d actually be into this sort of thing, not this much, and yet here you are.

“Don’t stop,” Sebastian begs, “shit, don’t f-fucking stop, I’m almost–”

His words give out, and he throws his head back to let out a rough cry. His hand comes back to shove your head down, and he thrusts roughly into your mouth. You gag, and bitter, salty warmth floods your mouth and coats your hands. It spills out of the corners of your lips, too much to swallow, and you push his hand away so you can lift your head up. You cough and sputter, and just manage to turn away to cough to avoid getting shot in the face by his remaining load. His whole body shudders as he gasps for air himself, and his cocks continue to twitch and spurt, eventually becoming a dribble before ultimately stopping once he goes limp. Even then, he can’t keep quiet, softly whimpering and trying (and failing) to hide it.

You wipe the cum and drool off your face, and grimace when you see the front of your jumpsuit. This is going to be a bitch to clean and even harder to explain. You take a second to catch your breath and admire the mess you made of Sebastian. When he finally looks down at you, god if you could take a picture of him now you absolutely would, just to tease him about how cute he looks when he blushes, how big and bright his eyes are, how slutty he looks when he’s drooling and panting, anything and everything.

“H-How’d I do?” you ask.

He takes a minute to steady his laboured breathing. “... You did okay.”

This motherfucker. “Just okay? Look at me, or actually, look at yourself.”

“After ten years o-of this shit,” he says, “a-any blowjob is gonna feel like the best blowjob you’ve gotten in your life.”

“Thanks…?”

Sebastian stares at you for a moment, before two hands grab your hips, one hand lifting your chin up so he can look at your face. He smirks, and it occurs that maybe you’re not looking much different from him. Your skin feels flush, your face is a mess, and you’re shaking and panting. You’re just not in the throes of ecstasy or enduring the aftershocks of an orgasm.

And then you feel his claws squeeze your hips and drag you up, rubbing your sex against his tail. You let out a shocked cry, your head tilting back before his grip on your jaw tightens.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he remarks, somehow back to being a snarky bastard already, “just returning the favour.”

Where you were deliberately going slow and steady so that Sebastian wouldn’t get overwhelmed too quick (even though he still did get overwhelmed very easily and quickly), Sebastian’s treatment of you is not as soft and sweet. Maybe it’s because he’s still riled up or something. He grips your hips tight and rocks you back and forth against his body, grinding into your sex quickly. 

“W-Wait, slow down!” you moan, trying to pull away despite his strength leaving you at his mercy.

“Could feel you grinding on my tail the whole time you sucked me off,” he growls, “moaning around my cock. Might as well finish what you started, hm?”

While you’re not in Sebastian’s position where you’ve gone about a decade without masturbating, much less having sex, it has been some time since you’ve had any action. You can tell yourself that’s all it is later, but right now, being manhandled by this large, strong fish man with sharp teeth and pretty eyes and raspy voice is the most turned on you’ve ever been. You don’t know if you’re ever going to want anything else when or if you get out of here, there’s no other person or toy that will quite compare.

Your orgasm has a little less fanfare than Sebastian’s, but you can tell he loves the face you make when you buck your hips and cry out his name. You shudder as your heart flutters and stars light up your eyes, nails digging into his scales. He lets your face go, watching you slump forward a little and try to catch your breath.

“There’s still something wrong with you,” Sebastian remarks, “but I guess it works out for us both, huh?”

“Shut up,” you reply, still breathless.

“What, you don’t want to do this again?” he asks. “You know, I might even consider giving you a discount next time.”

You lift your head up. “W-Wait, really?”

He smiles in that uniquely evil way he usually does. “Of course, if you can fit me next time.”

He lets your hips go and places a claw to your stomach. It slides up slowly before stopping, and he hums thoughtfully. He chuckles, and your face flushes when you realize the implications. 

“I-I don’t think you’ll fit next time,” you say.

“So there will be a next time?”

Your face flushes more, somehow. Sebastian merely pats your head.