“Oh…fiddlestix,” is all Nepeta hears Equius say after he answers the door. They’re practicing their sparring with one of his lususbots, and pounces when the bot’s looking the other direction, rather than pay his not-quite-swearing any mind. Equius can be such a hassle to deal with, everything gets him all worked up. So, when he re-enters the room, sweaty and out of breath, Nepeta is still not disturbed. Nothing out of the ordinary for their moirail - although the smell is occasionally overpowering to the snout. Like, now, for instance.
“Take a shower, nasty,” they say as they turn to look at him, prey subdued for the moment. Their eyes widen, and they pause their movement when they see what he’s holding. “What’s with…that?” they ask, gesturing vaguely at the dull metal pail he’s holding. It’s slightly humorous, he’s got an even more flustered look on his face than normal, like he’s been caught redhanded with a bucket in his hand, by his moirail.
“This is, uh,” he stammers to get the words out. The bucket drops with a clang. “The drones are here.”
“Nah, you’re kidding me. It’s not drone season,” she scrunches her face up. Then lightbulb. “Are you finally roleplaying with me? I’m so not interested in ERP with you, Eq. But I can see how you might think that moirails would do that? Maybe? Like, since there’s no touching and it’s just characters. But, no. Ew. No offense.” They shrug and playfully punch his shoulder. “But we can do something else!”
He just shakes his head. “This is not a roleplay, Nepeta. I command you to listen to me.” They roll their eyes. “There are actual drones at the door and they need us to. Well, they need me to. I mean to say, my matesprit and I need to. Or, if I had one. We would need to. Oh dear.” He grabs one of the towels off of his workbench and wipes his face dry. “Will you fill this bucket with me, Nepeta? So I’m not culled?” He can’t look in their eyes, looks everywhere around the room except their face.
He’s beginning to scare Nepeta. This isn’t a very funny joke. They begin to reply, but the lususbot pounces on them right as they open their mouth. It pushes them over, flat on the ground of the hive, head falling right in front of the door, and holy shit. There’s a drone. Equius is serious. Double holy shit reacharound.
The lususbot is deftly thrown off, never a true match for their skill anyway, and Equius disables it with a punch to its throat. The two of them make a good hunting team.
“If you do not help me, they will cull me.” He says it so matter of fact. It’s the truth, it’s not like he has a real matesprit to pail with. He just needs to mix his genetic material. And Nepeta’s got genetic material.
“This is such a weird sparring night,” they mumble. But they takes off their pants. It’s awkward. Nothing like with their actual matesprit. Oh furrick, that is going to have to be a conversation later. Grrrreat. “Okay, since it’s your drone, you gotta tell me what to do.”
He gulps. “Okay. Whew. Uh, take off your - oh you’ve already done that. Dear.” He tries to carefully pull his pants off, but they rip in two from the STRENGTH of his trembling. His skin is slick and the scent is overpowering. “Now. Now, I command you to, er, well, that is, if you want to.” He can’t finish a sentence. It’s very conciliatory.
Nepeta wants to pap him until he calms down.
Instead, they’re having to do the job of a different quadrant.
Nepeta’s eyes practically roll to the back of their head. “Equius, purrlease, let me be in charge. You’re making a, furrgive the comparison but, a clown of yourself.” The smile on their face says they’re not actually sorry for the comparison. “Now, strip. I don’t have all night.” They also strip, their rumblespheres bouncing out of their sports bra. His body is muscular from years of drinking nothing but milk, and he’s taller than Nepeta.
But, much of their prey has been larger than them. That’s all he is right now, after all. They make up the scenario as it happens, and narrate it to him. “AC is stalking their prey in the forest. They find him, a tall troll, and pounces. He falls to the ground under AC’s sharp claws and teeth.”
He doesn’t move.
“Equius, the prey falls to the ground under AC.”
Still, nothing.
“Oh my gog, that’s you. Lay down so I can get on top of you. Unless you want that drone to do away with you!” He does as he’s told, with a wipe of the towel on his face just beforehand.
Nepeta climbs on top of him, the sweat making it difficult to stay in one place. This seems to excite him, because the very tip of his bulge begins to poke out of his seed flap already. Nepeta smiles cheekily. “AC climbs on top of their prey, and begins to play with their meal.”
It’s still strange, but it’s starting to be kind of fun. Even though he’s gross. They nibble his chest, lick a grubscar. He moans, just the tiniest bit, so they lick the same spot again. His skin is salty, sweaty. The smell is overpowering. But, not in a bad way? Nepeta’s surely more used to Equius’ smell than any other troll may be, but…his musk is oddly comforting right now, even as the drone outside is itching to take him away forever. They keep smelling him, licking his sweat off his chest, his abdomen, and slowly, methodically, their tongue makes its way to his groin.
“AC sniffs and licks - what’s this? A new part of the body they have nefurr seen befurr? Hm. Must investigate.” Nepeta takes one finger, rubs it along the join of Equius’ nook and seed flap. The tip of his bulge twitches, and they softly trail a claw on the tip.
“Yes, Nepeta, that feels. Good,” he murmurs, and they do it again. And again. Each time, a little bit more of his deep blue bone bulge unsheaths itself. When he’s finally fully out, he wraps himself around Nepeta’s wrist.
They oblige, now starting to actually get into it, loving the way that this so-called “b100-b100ded superior” of hers is shivering at her touch. She always knew he was such a phony about all that, but this is hard proof that he’ll never be able to deny. After all, while he’s rutting up and down on her arm, bulge beginning to drip just the barest amount of his material, a real highblood would have said no and taken the culling right there. But Equius was — is — scared.
Nepeta can see it in the way he keeps glancing out the door for reassurance that he’s safe, even as they start to insert their first two fingers into his nook. He wants life, he’s not willing to submit to the social order the way he’s submitting to a feline-themed lowblood with the world’s most excellent erotic roleplay skills.
Their own bulge is now fully unsheathed, smaller than Equius’ but surely just as strong, and definitely more experienced. They removed their fingers from his nook, and he whines at the emptiness. Slowly, then, they unwrap their arm from his bulge, around in circles, tickling the side of his prehensile member the whole way up.
“Okay, Equius. Now AC has to fully subdue their prey. Are you ready?” It’s a little awkward still - a little bit of nervous energy balled up in Nepeta’s acid tract that they push down. This is all just a game, they aren’t pailing Equius, and Equius isn’t at risk of death if they don’t.
They reposition their body on top of his, laying nearly chest to chest, and their bulges instinctively latch onto each other. They both moan as the tendrils intertwine, each one aiming for the nook of the other. Equius’ blue tentacle is strong, and ribbed at the base; each time Nepeta’s smaller but equally as strong bulge brushes against his base, they inadvertently squeal.
Thrust. Squeal. Readjustment, squeal. Oh, gog, it’s incredible. Nepeta starts moving their hips back and forth, attempting to free their own bulge so they can fuck Equius’ nook with it, and he responds the same. Their bulges lock and push and pull with each other, twisting and thrashing, and even though Nepeta never wanted this, it’s just all too much, it feels too good.
Finally, Nepeta frees their bulge and is able to swiftly get their tip into Equius’ nook. The sweat on his body provides plenty of lubrication to get in. He curses — actually curses — as they push inside him with a violent thrust. Nepeta can’t tell if it’s pain or pleasure. They don’t care either way. Their hips move violently, and Equius’ bulge twists wildly as it looks for a place to enter, rubbing itself on their stomach as it does.
Nepeta bites into Equius’ shoulder as they begin fucking him as fast as possible. Their teeth latch down hard, almost making it all the way through his muscles, blue blood immediately getting on their own face while it drips to the floor of the hive. The blood mixes with his sweat, and it tastes salty, metallic, intoxicating. Before Nepeta can even unlatch their teeth, Equius tenses, instinctively going to push them off with every part of his body available. They take a hand, grab on, pull as tightly close as possible with their nails digging into his skin. Nepeta’s still inside him, still on top of him. Nepeta’s still in control, and they take those long feline nails of theirs down his arm as they continue to push into his nook.
Equius’ bulge begins to darken and deepen in color as his genetic material builds up. He’s still desperately rubbing it against Nepeta’s stomach, thrashing his tip into their seedflap to find any way into their nook opening. Nepeta pays him no mind, lost in their own world of feeling, their bulge completely enveloped by Equius’ nook. They pull out nearly all the way, but before he can use his bulge to grab theirs again, they push back in with as much force as possible. Again, pulling out, and thrusting. It makes him shudder each time, and he reaches out a hand to grasp their upper arm.
His grip is strong, but slippery from the sweat that’s completely drenched his body, untoweled this entire time. As Nepeta fucks his incredibly tight nook, his hand slips down their arm with each thrust, until he’s holding their wrist as their claws dig into his skin. The strength of he grip and the weight of his muscular arm makes Nepeta dig deeper into his skin, finally breaking skin in a third spot, now the blood escaping painting abstract pictures along his body. It’s difficult to focus on the visuals with all the feelings and emotions in their head, and they’re close to expelling their genetic material.
“Equius…the pail. It’s time,” they command him, pulling out of the nook that had treated them so well.
Equius reaches over and grabs the bucket that had fallen just barely within arm distance. He brings it over between them, and sits up. Nepeta gets off of him, dragging their claws lightly along his grub scars once more for good measure, before they both stand up, lean over the bucket.
Each reaches out one hand to rest on the other’s shoulder, lean against each other for support. This is the part that makes it all worth it - if this goes wrong, nothing else mattered. But finally, with bulges hanging low and wildly wiggling, heavier than ever and filled with genetic material, they each bring a hand to their own body.
Equius grasps his now entirely-too-large bulge, and Nepeta holds their small yet mighty one, looking into each other’s eyes. “Let’s finish this, Nepeta,” he says and they smile back at him.
“Race you, big guy,” they say as they begin stroking themself. Their bulge wraps itself between their fingers, and they move their hand back and forth to stimulate it, up and down, up and down, and fuck it feels almost as good as Equius’ nook did. And watching his bulge curl itself all the way up his forearm as he jerks himself off, they get frenzied about it. One stroke, two strokes, three in the same breath. Faster, harder, matching his pace as he begins to use all his energy to finish. He nearly falls backward as it hits him, and Nepeta pushes forward to catch him, so he leans on them. His heavy weight and the intense gaze of his eyes watching as they touch themself, it’s all too much.
Nepeta finishes first, olive green material shooting itself up toward their face but landing heavily in the bucket, right on target. They’re panting, breathing heavily, as Equius continues to stroke himself. Without saying a word, they reach over and begin rubbing the outside of the coil that his bulge has made around his arm, so he’s being stimulated from two sides.
Equius gasps at the sensation, at being stimulated from every possible angle his bulge can reach, at the realness of it all. He only lasts a few more strokes, each breath getting more desperate and whiny, before he shoots off as well.
His material, however, lands squarely on his own chest.
Nepeta leaps into action, knowing how dire it is that he gets enough in the pail. They pick it up, and scoop as much of the thick blue goo off of him and into the bucket as they can. It’s not as much as they would like, so they end up just grabbing his quickly retracting bulge and scraping down the sides of that as well. He tenses at the touch, his member definitely incredibly sensitive in these few after moments, but Nepeta doesn’t care.
That gets just enough material, they think. The blue and green mix in the bucket to form a slightly deeper green, almost turquoise. It’s sort of gross, now that it’s all over. But the future of their species and their own individual lives relies on them doing this. So, Nepeta’s glad to be able to help poor matesprit-less Equius.
They hand him the pail, and he returns it to the drone, still fully nude. The drone looks in it, surveys the two of them, and leaves without a word.
Equius has been spared at least one more year.