#please enjoy dom dew and subby swiss

[feralghxuls]

merry christmas ya filthy animals

You Call On Me

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dew/Swiss

Tags: Finger sucking, Hand & finger kink, undernegotiated kink (they have an Understanding, everything in here has been discussed previously offscreen), light somnophilia (sort of), boot kink

Words: 2,240

Summary: Swiss is feeling needy, but he won't ask for what he wants and Dew gets fed up with it. (Not that shoving his fingers into Swiss's mouth is really a punishment, but hey)

Dew's a little mean and Swiss loves it.

Swiss slinks past for the seventh time in the last thirty minutes, not quite making eye contact with Dew as he brushes by and lifts his tail. Dew stares him down, masking his hunger with a look of irritation. 

It’s just the two of them and Aether in one of the common rooms, a movie Aether wanted them to see playing on the TV, but Aether is the only one actually watching it. Well, he was, sort of. He’s curled against Dew’s side on the little loveseat they’d claimed, but he’s long since lost the battle to heavy eyelids, so really it’s just Dew and Swiss. 

And Swiss isn’t even pretending to watch the movie, instead choosing to act like a needy whore, getting up from his armchair across the room every ten minutes to refill his drink that doesn’t need refilling, to root around for snacks he doesn’t eat, to get a blanket, to put the blanket back and return with a different one. Weak excuses to stand and brush past Dew, to make sure he catches the rich cloud of want that’s rolling off him in waves. 

Dew would be lying if he said he wasn’t falling for it. The first time Swiss had pulled this, had sidled by far too close for how much space there is, bumping his hip against the arm of the loveseat and flicking his tail against Dew’s shoulder, Dew had watched him with dark eyes, heady anticipation filling his chest. He’d expected Swiss to come back from the tiny kitchenette behind him and plant himself on Dew’s thighs as he so often does to Dew and any other ghoul with an open lap, but he’d returned to his own chair instead, sinking into it and spreading his knees, pretending to watch the screen with one ear half turned towards Dew. 

By the third time Swiss pulled his little stunt, the room is already stinking of want, but Swiss still hadn’t asked for anything, hadn’t even spoken, and had still barely even touched Dew, though he had at some point popped the top few buttons of his black button down. Dew aches to reach out and rip through the rest of them, to see Swiss laid bare before him, but if Swiss wants to play games, then fine. Dewdrop can play this game. 

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