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The walk through the rest of the town went quickly and silently. The crowd gave them an even wider berth with the injured dragon in their midst. His injuries helped push them towards the academy. Nothing was immediately life-threatening, but the patchwork bandages were already stained with the creature's blood. His limp slowed them down, but the residual obedience of the poacher's cocktail and Beroan's influence kept the injured drake with them.

Ailmer strode with barely controlled rage. His fingers never left the hilt of his blade and his knuckles burned white with the intensity of his grip. Beroan followed meekly behind him, keeping much closer to the patrol. He did make sure to stay near the other dragon; though he was from a western clan Beroan did not recognize, the presence of another dragon calmed the injured creature somewhat. Sadly, under the influence of poisoned nirrosia, the dragon probably knew as much about his clan as Beroan did.

The mage's college was strikingly different than the rest of the town. Tucked back behind several dense blocks of squat buildings that formed a winding maze of alleyways and streets tight enough to make wagon wheels clatter over doorsteps, the college seemed much more like a large island in the midst of the city than another civic building. A tall wrought iron fence speared up from the ground to separate the alleyway from the college's courtyard. Thick vegetation blocked the view through the bars, but the several story, seamless building stretched up high enough to be easily seen over the fence, even from the closed-in alley. The construction of the building was unique as if the entire thing had been carved from a uniformly colored stone. Outside of a handful of windows and a line of carved dragon heads decorating the upper edge of the building, there was little embellishment on the building.

The gate parted for them as they approached. Remfry twitched, eying the unmanned gate with suspicion. It allowed them into a wide open courtyard, flanked on all sides by a thick garden, several planters deep. The paving stones of the courtyard formed a tremendous rendition of the mage's compass the spread below them. They stepped first onto the jagged symbol of lightning that pointed towards the gates and headed towards the twisted swirl of the healer closest to the main doors of the college. Central to the courtyard, linked to the other six symbols that surrounded it, was a large statue of a small dragon. Constructed entirely of copper and kept gleaming by studious upkeep and a healthy dose of magic, the masterfully carved dragon stood watch over the college, it's piercing eyes looking up towards the sky.

Beroan couldn't help but pause as they approached the statue. A flash of recognition crossed his muzzle while he stared. What was the statue of Rithkanok, creator of the clans, doing here in a human city? He was a myth even to most clans, even some who took their pride in remembering the stories of their ancestors. Especially considering his most recent treatment, the idea of a forgotten draconic hero in the middle of a human city was quite a shock to Beroan.

However, it did provide him some comfort. It was a different tone than the cage that had greeted Beroan in the poacher's den. The dragon next to him seemed visibly more relaxed as well, even though he had not said a word, either in draconic or any human language. Beroan still couldn't feel him, either. He was accustomed to being able to feel nearby dragons by the tugs on his threads as their magic brushed together, but the dragon walking next to him felt as magical as a human. Beroan could feel the strum across his threads, but from another source.

Magic lay heavy here, to a degree that Beroan had never encountered in the human world. He hadn't felt this sort of magic since he's last seen his clan crystal. Tucked deep into this human city, the college felt like an island of magic in a sea of mundanity.

Beroan hadn't had his interest piqued like this since the first time he'd seen a human town.

He fought to hold himself back. His curious mind goaded him to run forward and investigate but his recent encounter helped him tuck those thoughts to the back of his mind. Instead, he turned his head to look up at Ailmer.

Ailmer had stopped in front of the statue, his jaw clenched while he stared up at the dragon. An inscrutable expression painted his face; Beroan couldn't tell whether relief was spreading across his face or if some soul-wrenching pain was turning the sides of his lips down. The rest of the patrol held behind him, leaving Ailmer to silently evaluate the statue. “Not a damn thing." He mumbled to himself, before leading the way to the main doors.

Beroan couldn't help himself. The moment that Ailmer cracked the door, his curiosity got the better of him. He forced Ailmer to stumble back as he stuffed his nose inside, the rest of him slinking inside faster than Ailmer's groping hands could stop.

The entry hall spread out in front of Beroan, revealing a surprisingly roomy hall. A large fountain splashed audibly as he breached the entrance, decorating the center of the wide hall. Large murals spread over the walls of the entrance hall, telling the stories of combat, magic, and dragons in a sweeping tapestry dense with color and passion. His eyes tried to stop there and figure out what was going on in the scene but he couldn't stop his curiosity from pushing him forward. From the arching ceiling to the strange floor, it was a far cry from the rough floorboards and wooden ceilings of the most extravagant buildings in Mossly.

The stone floor was extremely smooth and cool against Beroan's pawpads. He gripped the tiles with his toes as he walked, nervous as the ground was much smoother than almost anything he's stepped on before. It lacked even the curve of river-worn stones. He paused as his eyes came up to the pair of forms standing in the entryway. The only other time he'd seen a dragon and human standing like that was when he'd glanced at a reflection of himself and Ailmer on the road here.

The dragon was a mottled brown and grey, sitting beside the human. He could easily have passed as a breathing boulder, except for the slow swaying of his tail over the tiles behind him. His still head and calm amber eyes came up to the human's chest. The heavier-set human grinned wide as he watched the group filter in. The human chuckled to himself, shaking his head. His short hair moved with the motion, the black streaked with gray. “Halin strike me, it's like seeing a ghost." He said jovially.

Ailmer couldn't keep a smirk from the sides of his lip. “Hal. I suppose it would be, I remember you speaking at my funeral."

“That's a sentence, isn't it! Kihil insisted he felt something tugging at his threads, then we find you walking through those old doors." Hal said, striding forward.

Kihil silently raised up to pad along beside the headmaster. Ailmer reached out to offer his hand to shake, but the motion was lost as Hal wrapped him in a hug. “Here I thought that you'd sent for me," Ailmer said, returning the gesture.

“Mages…" Joceus said, under his breath.

“Ha, the college is still ill liked by the castle, less so with our most recent and glorious king. You mean to say that these fine warriors brought you here first?" Hal asked, releasing Ailmer to turn to the patrol.

Pawlin nodded. “His Majesty thought that the mages ought to board their own. He simply prefers to pinch any coin that he can spend on himself, hmm?"

“We know that well, Sergeant. At least we have other avenues of coin than the military; from the grumblings I hear, rations and pay have been caught inside the Muldin's purse strings."

Pawlin nodded. “Somehow, it seems that a pound has lost weight since the fifth took the crown."

“Damndest thing, that. With the scout in the mage's hold, the tavern's a siren call, sir." Remfry said, hopefully.

“We'll be back soon to collect you, Ailmer. The Royals will be busy through the harvest, but their business won't wait forever." Pawlin said.

Ailmer nodded, leaving the patrol to filter out from the foyer. “Now, don't be running back home, you hear?" Remfry called over his shoulder.

“I don't think anyone would let me leave, soldier," Ailmer replied.

“Come on, Remfry, I still owe you that beer," Joceus said.

“Damn right you do."

They fell quiet as the patrol filtered out, their casual conversation quickly muted by the heavy doors. Kihil leaned forward, his eyes flicking over Beroan as he gave a few short sniffs at the green drake's muzzle. “Longtail." He rumbled.

“Beroan!" The green drake answered proudly, nodding.

“Always an eye for the exotics, Ailmer? Come, come, to my study." Hal said, spinning on his heel to lead the way.

Kihil stood, lazily following the mage. Beroan hopped along after him, padding along in front of Ailmer. He could feel the slight vibrations of the other mage's threads, as if he was standing on the shore of a river rushing in front of him, catching the spray across his muzzle. Try as he might, he couldn't distinguish between the dragon's and the mage's threads; the magic felt different than anything he'd ever felt from any creature. He struggled to figure out what the difference was, finally puzzling that it was like the smell of a creature he'd never before scented.

Ailmer strode forward, walking alongside Hal. “It was a chance encounter. I patched him up after he fought a handful of gem monsters."

“You have the strangest luck, Ailmer. Surviving…what you went through, then finding another dragon? Beroan, was it? You don't feel... Well, what has got you following this mage?" Hal asked.

Beroan opened his mouth to reply, but it took him a few seconds to come up with the words. “I…Well, I wanted to see a big human city."

Hal nodded, his eyes twinkling as he looked back, seeming to look right through Beroan's given excuse. “Oh, well, how do you like Damsk, then?"

“It's been…eventful." Ailmer replied.

Beroan squirmed a little, looking off to the side. “There's so much to see and do and taste! There's so many people and carts and even dragons, too!"

“There's another thing that we need to talk about, Hal. We found some poachers, holed up in the heart of the city. They were well equipped to capture dragons."

Hal nodded, his smile dulling. “I hope you left the building standing for the guard to investigate, Ailmer, though I wouldn't blame you if it were caught in your fiery wrath as well. Yes, we do encounter them every so often, but they have gotten bolder since the Muldins have relaxed the guard's numbers."

Ailmer nodded, “Do they do anything about them?"

“More, now. It has begun to be a diplomatic issue for the throne." Hal said.

“The nobles hold no love for dragons." Kihil said, “But, they bring with them too many promises of power for any of them to ignore."

“As it always goes. Curse them with company but drag all your heirs to the binding and hope that they get yet another chance at greatness." Hal said.

“Mhm. Nothing really changes, does it?" Ailmer said.

“Naught but the names," Hal replied.

Kihil shook his head, turning to look at Ailmer. “The names, and the dead."

Ailmer twitched, looking off over his shoulder.

Hal chuckled. “To be fair, this is the first time that I've seen the dead change back to life."

“We have many legends of those that dive past the threshold of life." Kihil said.

“I was hardly dead." Ailmer protested.

“You've stopped looking alive, if I recall your face from years ago. Now, tell me, Ail. What have you found to drive you forward again?" Hal asked.

“Drav Nikon," Ailmer answered.

Hal nodded slowly, his jovial smile turning down. Kihil took in a sharp breath, his upper lip curling up to reveal his teeth. Beroan's steps faltered as he felt a surge of power rush between them, enough that the scales along his spine tingled. Ailmer continued on, glancing down at Beroan with a furrowed brow. “Are you alright, Beroan?"

“Yes, it's just…" Beroan began.

“We have seen it," Kihil said.

Hal drew in a long, slow breath through his nostrils, trying to inflate the smile back onto his face. His lips managed a thin line and his jaw stayed clenched. “Once. We had a similar dream as what you had described. Tilted stars, strange tunnels, an underground world. And…"

Ailmer nodded. “And the gem monster."

“Yes." Hal said, “And power so thick on the air it could choke you. What have you found, Ailmer, that convinced you to journey again?"

“We found a thing! It's a…It's like a compass, but for stars!" Beroan piped up.

“An astrolabe, covered in ancient draconic script. It gives no guide to the stars in the sky." Ailmer continued.

“But to the ones in the dreams?" Hal asked.

Ailmer nodded, "They match the charts perfectly."

Hal took another deep breath, his steps slowing as they reached the door to his study. Rihil glanced along the empty hallway as Hal pushed the door inward, gesturing them inside. Ailmer led the way in, making a beeline towards a large armchair in the corner of the room. He picked up a stack of books from the chair, carefully settling them onto a packed side table before dropping his pack to the floor, starting to dig through it as the others entered. Hal strode to the large desk facing the door, starting his own search through the drawers.

Beroan entered next, looking around with wide-eyed amazement. The walls were covered in bookshelves and every inch of them was packed with leather-bound tomes. His path shifted with his first step into the room, the dragon swinging to the side to stuff his snout into a rack of books. Rihil followed last, his expression clouded while his nimble tail pulled the door shut.

Ailmer reverently drew a blanket-wrapped parcel from the bottom of his pack, carrying it over to Hal's large desk. Rihil narrowed his eyes as the bundle came out, suppressing a slight shiver. Even Hal glanced up, his eyes locked onto that bundle as he pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf beside his desk, setting it beside a cloth-wrapped loaf of bread and another of cheese. He left them wrapped, everyone's attention focused on Ailmer.

The blanket parted to reveal the first glint of gold. Hal's eyes widened as Ailmer revealed the artifact. Careful runed script adorned the tool, while a pair of intricately carved dragons twisted around its three-dimensional arms. A lever in the center tilted in a strange manner, linking to all three of the arms, letting the hovering center shelf align with measurements marked by the same style of ancient script that adorned the arms. The measuring arm itself was adorned with a pair of coiled dragons. Stylized stars covered the rest of the tool, giving it texture wherever it didn't have runes or dragons. In the light of the room, the ancient, seamless gold sparkled as the weight of the device adjusted the arms, smoothly sliding back to neutral as it rested on the table.

Silence reigned over the room as they could do nothing but stare. Rihil stepped forward, his head cocking from side to side as he examined the arms of the device. Hal shook his head from side to side. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Ahilia's tits, Ailmer."

Ailmer's frown turned up at the corners as he did his best to keep his face grim. However, a chuckle escaped him, leaving him shaking his head. "You've a way with words, Hal."

"Well, I've never seen anything like it. Besides that being a king's ransom in metal, I can feel the magic rolling off it." Hal said.

Ailmer nodded. His eyes traced along the flowing script that decorated the arms of the device, recalling how they looked under the light of the full moon long after the candle had burnt out on his desk at the mill. Ailmer would have felt better if his hours of study had turned up the translation of even a single character on the device. "I've never seen anything like it," Rihil said.

"But it's so pretty!" Beroan said, pulling himself from the shelves to slide his muzzle right onto the desk.

Ailmer reached down to pull Beroan's head back to keep his breath from fogging the metal. "You're quite astute, Longtail. Beroan, was it?" Hal asked.

"Mmm," Beroan replied.

"How many seasons have you seen?" Hal asked.

"Twenty-four winters!" Beroan said.

"Young for a drake. Where did you pick up your skill with the human tongue?" Hal asked.

"Well, Ailmer's pretty good with his, so I learned a lot." Beroan said.

It took Hal's raucous laughter to make Ailmer realize what the drake had admitted. Ailmer snorted and gave Beroan's scaly flank a sharp swat. Beroan yelped and jumped back, sitting himself down to wrap his tail around that side of his flank. "You certainly know how to pick them, Ailmer," Hal said.

"Damn drake. You can't be saying those sort of things, Beroan." Ailmer said.

"Like I don't know. Some wine? The travel from Mossly isn't the fastest journey." Hal offered.

"Wine? Is that like cider?" Beroan asked.

"Yes, made from berries rather than apples. It tends to be stronger, with a wider variety of flavors." Hal said, holding up the bottle to the light, "This is the best I've got up here; we'll tuck into some of the ancient imports I've squirreled away later, but your recovery is of more importance today." Hal said.

The bottle found its way into a pair of goblets and bowls. Hal finished the last few drops into the bowls, hmphing as the bottle ran dry. He pulled another bottle from under the desk before he doled out the drink. Ailmer accepted gratefully, taking a long draw as Hal handed the bowls to the dragons. "No, like this, Longtail," Rihil said.

He demonstrated his posture for the other dragon, cradling the bowl in a forepaw to raise it to his lips to sip. Beroan looked up to watch, pulling back from stuffing his muzzle in the bowl on the table to attempt to emulate the motion. He unsteadily managed, using both paws to hold the bowl. He managed to copy the motion adequately, narrowly avoiding splashing onto the floor. "He'll drink you out of the academy's coin if you're not careful, Hal," Ailmer warned.

"Ha! If I can't do it, his scaly hide isn't about to start." Hal cried out, “But as wondrous as this find is, Ailmer, it is a matter for the morrow. For now, there is wine to celebrate the reincarnation of such a beloved friend!"

Ailmer couldn't keep the smile off his face. He shook his head, sending one more glance back to the device glittering on the desk. He sighed, closing his eyes as he turned back to his friends. Hal shoved another mug of wine into his hands, giving him a wink. “And I know you'll be wanting to show Beroan the showers."

***

“This must have been tough to dig out," Beroan said.

Ailmer chuckled and nodded, holding a torch above his head. Cool white light flooded the stairwell as they headed down several levels into the belly of the academy. There was no flickering from the magical light that spilled from the top portion of the torch—warm to the touch, the wood glowed in the air as it illuminated the solid blocks, placed together so tightly they seemed seamless. “Maybe. The lower floors are older than anyone but books remember. With enough mages and dragons, though, I suppose it wouldn't be a tremendous ordeal."

Beroan nodded, his tail wagging quickly as his eyes glanced around the stairwell. He stuck his nose into the entrance to another hallway; this one seemed to be dormitories, considering the tight doors and the peek Beroan got inside the closest doorway. A quick tug on his tail brought his attention back to the stairs, letting him hop down past Ailmer. “So where are we going?" He asked.

“The showers." Ailmer answered, “It's like an indoor waterfall, for bathing."

Beroan blinked. “But we're underground? There's a waterfall here?"

“Mhm. We use metal pipes and joined stone to pull water from the river, then we can use it anywhere we want. They were put in a long, long time ago; I assume the water mages got tired of lifting buckets from the wells." Ailmer said.

Beroan bobbed his head before glancing up at Ailmer, a mischievous smirk on his face. “So you're going to wash this dirty dragon again?"

Ailmer glanced up and down the stairs with a grin. He kept himself quiet until they'd finally reached the final landing on the next floor down. He glanced into the hallway, before turning back to the drake. “I'm gonna trod all over your tail." He threatened.

“You brought the rope?" Beroan asked, his tail swinging violently to smack against the walls of the stairwell.

Ailmer snorted and reached down to rub over the dragon's head, beginning the easy process of dragging the willing drake along down the hallway. “No rope right now, drake. If it makes you feel better, I still have plenty in my pack."

“Oh! Let's go get it then, I remember the way-" Beroan said.

The drake's tail had disappeared back up the stairs before the words were out of Ailmer's mouth to call the drake back. Beroan returned, huffing insolently. “But I wanna play with it!" He whined.

Ailmer bit his lip, trying, and failing, to control the grin spreading across the corners of his mouth. “We'll get plenty of time with that later. There's the shower to show you now, though."

“Oh! Yeah! The shower, where is it? In here?" Beroan said, immediately sticking his snout through the nearest portal, his muzzle returning with a puzzled frown. “Just some junk in there."

Ailmer laughed, shaking his head as he squatted down to come eye to eye with the dragon, leaning forward to gently press his lips to the tip of the drake's snout. He earned himself a sudden lick for his trouble. One arm went up to wipe his face on his sleeve as his other stayed down to wrap around Beroan's horn again, tugging him along a bit more roughly than before. “Close, through here…" He said through his smirk.

Beroan playfully tugged at Ailmer's hand as he was dragged along, but his bulk was easy to move when he was heading the same way as the human. They entered a larger room, this one much warmer than the others, especially for this far in a cellar. Pipes and metal constructs lined the walls of the room, breathing heavily every so often as mages worked upstairs. The source of the heat was apparent; as the boilers and the pipes bellowed, steam hissed from gaps in the machines.

Ailmer was glad for the hold he had on the dragon's horn. He felt his muzzle tugging to the side as his interest piqued each time the machinery moved, so instead, he pulled the dragon to the center of the room. Beroan looked slightly confused. “Ail, why can't we go look at those things? It's boring right-Awk!"

Ailmer burst out laughing, his hand slipping off the dial that had made warm water pour down over the drake. Beroan stumbled on the smooth stone, sputtering as water sloughed off his scales, trying to keep himself looking as angry as possible. The expression melted from his face almost instantly as he looked up to watch the way the water poured from the pipes above him. Ailmer was still left chuckling at the drake's surprise, reaching up to wipe his eyes on a sleeve.

He was suddenly met with a heavy impact to his front and quite a bit more wetness than he'd had on his face. Beroan growled, his soaked form tackling the now-winded Ailmer to the ground. Water splashed off him, soaking the human's clothing. “Beroan!" He said.

“It got you out of your clothes the first time," Beroan said.

Ailmer shook his arms, splattering water over the stone floor. “Kith's fires burn in you, don't they? Damn drake, I was going to shower with-" He started, before realizing that Beroan was already halfway across the room, staring up at the pouring water.

Ailmer shook his head, chuckling to himself as he began to strip down while Beroan puzzled out the secrets of the mechanism. Ailmer took his time, breathing deep as he undressed as hot steam filled the room. Finally, he made his way forward, hissing as the warm water splashed against his front as he stepped into the wide waterfall.

Beroan was still looking up at the wide head of the shower, blinking every time one of his leans to get a different angle splashed him in the face. “Now, you were so eager to get me naked. What has you so puzzled?"

“The water's coming out faster than it should," Beroan said.

“Why do you think that is?" Ailmer asked, standing beside Beroan to run his hand down the water-slick scales on his neck.

“Maybe the water in the pipes is moving fast? But even then, waterfalls drop faster." He answered.

“Mhm. It's not much to do with the pipes. Consider that when the pipe is shut, the water isn't moving."

Beroan leaned in against the human's thigh, closing his eyes as he thought. They both took a moment to let the heated water wash the aches from their muscles as he pondered. “Perhaps something is pressing against it from behind?" Beroan answered.

“What would that be? Don't overthink it." Ailmer said.

“The water?" Beroan answered.

“Exactly!" Ailmer replied, “The weight of the water pushes on it from behind, and the exit to the pipe is smaller than the pipe itself with all those holes. Now, why do you think that it holds so much pressure, compared to something like, say, feathers?"

“Well, it's much harder." Beroan said before his eyes narrowed ad he thought about his answer more, “Not harder, but…"

Ailmer nodded sagely. “Not harder, but water cannot be compressed. Like pressing your paw down on a pillow, there's air to move between the layers of material. Water has no air around it to push out."

Beroan nodded. “So there's nothing else to push out, so the water pushes against itself, but the pipes are too strong for it to escape out except when it is released…"

“Mhm, giving it force. Many people first guess that there is a hidden mechanism or some sort of magic at play. However, it is a lesson that water mages learn early. Should they control fluid correctly, they can throw some with such force to break bones rather than splash." Ailmer explained.

Beroan nodded quickly. “So that is how dragons mages can smash stone with water." He answered.

“Yes. It tends to be rather exhausting for the mage, as efficient water magic tends to be closer to-" Ailmer began.

“You know what else tends to be exhausting for mages?" Beroan cut him off.

Ailmer shook his head a few times, glancing back down at the dragon. “Wha-"

He barely got that far before the drake was on top of him, his forepaws driving the mage to the floor. He kept his tail underneath the human, the lithe limb supporting him enough to keep the fall from being painful. Ailmer still found himself winded with the heavy dragon pressing down on top of him. He could feel the heat of the drake's vent pressing down on his thigh, even warmer than the water of the shower.

He gasped for breath, but his hands reached up to stroke along the dragon's thighs. The tail snaked out from under him to wag under the water and Ailmer found himself grinding up against the drake's warm underbelly. “You. You tend to exhaust mages." Ailmer said.

“Good guess. Now exhaust me." Beroan rumbled.

Ailmer grinned, feeling the dragon's thick shaft starting to slide out against his thigh. His fingers stroked up the dragon's heaving sides to grip onto the male's shoulders, using that lever to press himself back and forth along the dragon's belly. Beroan let out a soft whine, his forelegs bending down to press himself against the squirming human and give him a better angle to grind his stiff shaft along the human's leg.

Beroan let out an eager groan as he was left at full stiffness. Ailmer growled softly, reaching up to grip one of the dragon's horns with his right hand to yank his muzzle down, pressing his lips against the dragon's own. Beroan's confusion only held for a few seconds before his tongue pressed out. Ailmer felt his tongue slide up along the dragon's pushing between the male's thick, leathery lips before meeting the inside of the male's muzzle.

Ailmer was unprepared for the thick, nimble tongue that stuffed his mouth. It slid along his cheek before wrapping around his tongue, squeezing with a rough top and a slick, incredibly supple underside. He felt his jaws get pushed apart as Beroan's tongue stuffed his mouth, squeezing and squirming around inside his jaws. He shifted under the drake with a soft moan as the male adjusted, bringing his thick shaft up to slide along Ailmer's hips.

That hot, stiff dragon cock throbbed needily against his hips, tracing along his own stiff shaft and lower belly to drip thick precum onto his belly. The viscous fluid clung to him, but the heated, rushing water of the shower whisked it away after a few moments, in time for another thick drop to drool off the dragon's pointed cocktip. Ailmer's own shaft slid and ground along the dragon's dick, his own precum whisked away much more readily by the water. That didn't stop Ailmer from enjoying the feel of the dragon's shaft against his own, the pulsing, slick heat of the drake's cock much different than the slick heat of the warm waterfall. Ailmer sighed in pleasure, taking his time stroking and rubbing over the drake's sides. “It's been too long…" He mumbled to himself.

“You're taking too long," Beroan whined.

Ailmer smirked as Beroan pushed his hips down, slowly humping against the human's smooth front. Ailmer's staff was rock hard as he returned the slow presses, working his own hips up to grind along the dragon's impressive spear. Beroan let out another little whimper, trembling above the human as his hindpaws shifted back to let him drop his hips another few inches. Ailmer bit his lip as the drake's cock pressed even more firmly against him, grinding the root in against the crook of his thigh. The whole length of the drake's pointed cock slid along his front, the tip dripping and drooling above his bellybutton. He could feel his whole length throbbing against the dragon's shaft, sharing in the sensation of the drake's plush flesh and the searing hot, stiff core of his dick.

Ailmer squirmed, worming his hand down underneath Beroan's bulk as his fingers coiled around the dragon's shaft. His fingers strained to reach halfway around their shafts, but he managed to succeed in squeezing his shaft against the dragon's own. Beroan's hind paw pressed at the stone as he pushed forward into that grip, his claws scratching along the tiles. Ailmer ground up, starting to hump up along the dragon's shaft, catching the warm spray of water splashing from the drake's scales.

Beroan panted heavily above Ailmer, grinding his hips forward to try to mash his shaft against the human's smooth skin. The hot water pouring over his back was a sharp contrast to the cold floor under his paw pads, all the sensations only heightening his focus on the sensations below him. Ailmer groaned, arching his hips up as much as he could under the dragon's weight to further stroke his cock along Beroan's own. Finally, Beroan let out a growl and stepped back.

His motions were hesitant at first as it pained him to pull his cock back from the human's teasing caress. However, almost as soon as his shaft separated from the human's fingers, Beroan found himself with his chin pressed to his paws and his tail flagged high in the waterfall, wagging his hips in front of the supine human. He stopped just short of whimpering, but his throbbing cock told the whole story.

Ailmer stroked his shaft as he stood up, taking his time admiring the dragon. As needy as both of them were, the view of the water splashing off Beroan's glistening scales and the expression of pleasure on his face was a treat that Ailmer didn't want to ruin with haste. His hands reached forward to clasp over the dragon's flanks, slowly rubbing and stroking along the dragon's legs before his fingers finally teased over the male's offered rump. Ailmer enjoyed the feel of those pliable, leathery scales and the strong muscle underneath them. They roamed along the swells of Beroan's ass, clasping around the base of the drake's tail. He rubbed back and forth there before his fingers brushed over Beroan's warm vent.

The sound of the rushing water barely drowned out Beroan's whimper. “A-Ail, shards, please…" He mumbled, slipping into draconic but for the name.

Had Ailmer not understood the words, the meaning would still have been quite clear. His heart pounded in his chest as he found himself unable to tease the dragon any longer. His hands slid out to the drake's hips, the sound of the water pouring onto the drake changing as Beroan shifted his hips and pushed himself back.

The water didn't drown out either of their moans as Ailmer's shaft pressed against Beroan's vent. The dragon humped back spastically a few times, working himself back against that shaft. Ailmer glanced down, watching the dragon's vent mash against his shaft, his cock almost painfully stiff against the warm dragon. Ailmer bit his tongue, trying to silence the gasp that had already escaped his lips. His fingers wrapped around the front of the dragon's thighs, anchoring him as he pulled his hips back, attempting to line himself up. Beroan was too eager, his hips immediately pushing back to close the gap each time that Ailmer thrust forward.

Ailmer growled, loudly enough that Beroan could hear it over the shower. However, before the drake could turn his head to glance at the human, he felt a hand press against the underside of his tail and mash it against his back. His hips were forced up even further into the air, and he suddenly felt the human's shaft press into his vent. He couldn't stop from clenching around that heated, intruding length, nor could he stop the cry of pleasure that echoed through the chamber.

Ailmer's moan joined the drake's own as his hips met the dragon's own. The male's tunnel was tight and hotter than it had any right to be; it edged on the very corner of unpleasant, but close enough to set him on fire with the sensation. Ailmer was already panting, his fingers digging into the dragon's undertail and thigh as he ground in slowly before starting to pull back. Beroan's hips pushed back, the dragon trying to keep the human from retreating, but Ailmer held him tightly enough to keep him from retaking too much ground…at least until his hips pushed forward again.

He buried himself back inside of the dragon, hissing out as his hips slapped back against Beroan's hind legs. Beroan shivered, his hips finally starting to roll in time with Ailmer's thrusts. Each time Ailmer's crotch met the dragon's rump, the pair of them shared in a low moan, their noises mostly drowned out by echos and the cacophony of water cascading down over them. Ailmer shook his head, clearing the strands of soaked hair from his forehead as he couldn't bear to remove his fingers from the dragon in front of him.

They both began to pant as Ailmer's rhythm sped up, sharing in several long minutes of pleasure. Beroan kept his muzzle pressed down against his forepaws, treasuring the water splashing down over him and the heat of the human's exotic, smooth skin pressing against him. Ailmer's fingers dug into the meat of the drake below him, the sensation of the strong, wild dragon pressing against him only heightened by the heated water. “A-Ail, Sharps, I'm…" Beroan started, before a roar suddenly tore itself from his throat.

Ailmer joined with a needy gasp as the dragon's tunnel clenched around his shaft. He thrust forward, sinking his cock in to the root as he began to pump his seed into the dragon, while he felt the drake's hot seed splash out over his foot. Beroan shivered against him, his hips grinding back as he tried to take every last bit of the human's shaft, managing to mute himself by clenching his teeth around his foreleg. His seed splashed over his hindpaws and the human's foot as Ailmer managed two more shaky thrusts during his orgasm, gasping for breath between the water and the pleasure.

Finally, Ailmer was left collapsed over the base of the dragon's tail and Beroan found himself panting over his scratched foreleg scales. The both rested in their afterglow, the only communication between them soft whimpers when any motion caused Ailmer's cock to move inside of Beroan. “Shards…" Beroan mumbled.

Ailmer smirked, panting himself as he straightened up and grabbed the dragon's rump, slowly starting to pull out. He shivered as he watched his shaft pull back from the dragon's vent, the edge of the plump hole gripping at his tip before his shaft slipped out, leaving a few droplets of white dripping down the male's undercarriage to be whisked away by the hot water. “Fires, dragon…" Ailmer mumbled in reply.

Beroan took a few deep breaths before arching up into the falling water. A low, happy purr emanated from him as he tipped his head back, looking upside down at Ailmer. “So am I still a dirty dragon?"

“Very."