#fool!sh

The problem is, it's annoying.

Foolish has been alive for a long time. He's spent hundreds of mating seasons alone. It's not really a problem. It's just annoying. He's got work to do, things to build. He can't do any of it if he's so horny he's afraid he'll jump the first person he sees.

So he's in his shitty house with his meager supplies, hard and annoyed. He runs his hand through his hair and reaches down to palm at his crotch, groaning lightly and considering calling Bad. They've spent many of Foolish's mating seasons together. Bad is a good partner when he needs to be, but there's something wrong with him right now, and Foolish doesn't like the sickly chemical smell on him.

He drops his head back against his pillows and snarls, irritated and frustrated.

Like the universe wants him to suffer, there's a knock on the door. He knows it's not Tubbo; something happened to him a few days ago, and he hasn't returned. It's none of the eggs. Foolish groans and tugs on a loose pair of pants, uncaring of his way, his erections are still highly visible. He leans against the doorframe and opens the door with an annoyed huff.

Etoiles is in front of him, inventory open while he'd been waiting for Foolish to open the door. He looks up, and a grin spreads across his face. Foolish tries not to bare his teeth, instincts telling him Etoiles is standing too confidently, his smile is too wide. Foolish tenses, fighting the need to take him down a few pegs.

"My bro, let's spar," Etoiles says, eyes trailing over Foolish's face and smile widening at his annoyed expression. "You will feel better," he urges, stepping more into Foolish's space and looking up at him through his lashes.

Foolish smells him, earthy and almost floral, ripping a growl from his chest. Etoiles doesn't even flinch, and Foolish wants to grab him by the neck and make him scared enough to submit. If Foolish wasn't so out of his mind with his instincts, he might see through what Etoiles is doing. Suppose he wasn't so horny he couldn't think. In that case, he might see that Etoiles is offering himself to Foolish on a silver platter.

As it stands, Foolish isn't in his right mind.

He nods, grabbing Etoiles by the shoulder and dragging him to the field near Town of Fobo. Etoiles follows, grinning.

They fight, Etoiles doesn't go down easily. Foolish lets his brain haze over, losing himself to his instincts and needs. Every time he gets Etoiles pinned, the cucumber hybrid manages to squirm his way out. Foolish gets tired of it, snarling and getting his big hand in Etoiles' hair. He presses the man's face into the ground and straddles his back, hard and dripping a wet spot in his sweats. Etoiles shudders under him, thrashing and laughing breathlessly. Foolish grinds hard against Etoiles, panting and more worked up than before.

"You win my bro," Etoiles purrs, letting his body go soft and pliant under Foolish's grip. Foolish growls and tugs clumsily at Etoiles' pants, getting them off and spitting directly on his hole. Etoiles is making soft noises under him, hands digging into the grass. Foolish presses two fingers slowly inside of him, groaning at the tight heat. He grinds his cocks against Etoiles' thigh and stretches him out quickly, sloppily.

When Etoiles starts getting squirmy and impatient, Foolish pulls away and presses one dick into Etoiles in one swift push.

Etoiles gasps, choking on his moan and shuddering hard. Foolish is easily the biggest on the island; he fills Etoiles like he's never been filled before. Foolish is one of the only people who manages to make Etoiles feel small, the way he towers over him, the way his dick feels like it's splitting Etoiles in half. He's drooling, and Foolish is barely fucking him. He's so big that it's impossible for him to not be pressing against Etoiles' prostate on every pass.

Foolish leans more of his weight onto Etoiles, pinning him and starting to pound into him. Etoiles can't keep his mouth shut, moaning and whimpering. Foolish purrs and leans down, pressing him deeper into Etoiles. He latches onto his shoulder, sharp teeth digging into his skin and holding on. Etoiles yelps, his dick twitches, and he's cumming untouched on the ground. Foolish groans, every thrust forward dragging the dick not stuffed inside of Etoiles against the length of Etoiles' cock, making him gasp and twitch.

Foolish chases his release, ignoring the pathetic whines from the body under him. He removes his teeth and licks eagerly at the wound, hands tightening on Etoiles' waist and in his hair. He snarls when he cums, pressing down on Etoiles harder and making sure the man can't move. Etoiles groans softly at the feeling, eyes rolling back and hands scrambling against the ground, trying to get any kind of stability.

Foolish pants, pressed as deep as he can go inside Etoiles, calming down a bit. He runs his hands gently up and down Etoiles' sides, watching the man below him shudder and whine.

"It's better?" Etoiles asks, laughing shakily. Foolish hums softly and leans down to nuzzle against Etoiles' neck, nipping behind his ear and keeping his softening cock inside of him.

See, Quackity just wants anyone. He's so so tired of his poor right hand and his imagination. He wants someone to want him, no matter who it is or how they want him.

Foolish is also tired, see he loves Vegetta with all his heart but the man has been away for so long that Foolish is starting to forget how the shape of his hands felt gripping Foolish's waist.

Bottom line is, Foolish and Quackity are both frustrated.

They'd run into each other accidently, and the way Quackity would look up at Foolish with so much heat and need behind his eyes would make Foolish absolutely have to do something about it. He's grab Quackity, on hand able to wrap fully around his bicep, and drag him to town of Fobo. Quackity would go weak in the knees instantly when Foolish starts to manhandle him, because Foolish is two heads taller than him and about double Quackity's body weight of muscle.

Foolish would be mean about it, uncaring about Quackity's clothes, he's push him against the wall and leave mean bitemarks all over his shoulders and neck. Quackity would whine and squirm and Foolish would put a stop to that with just one big hand gripping his waist.