He didn't need to look up from his book to see who had opened the bedroom door; he could tell by the scent in the air. "Do you think fairies actually have tails?" Sting laid sprawled across his king size bed, freshly showered and clad only in sweatpants. His boyfriend ignored him, making his way across the room and removing his cloak. He set it on the dresser they shared, then he went to work removing his shirt. "I mean we have all of this lore about fairies and there's nothing about them having tails. I wonder if that's just a play on words or something." When he was greeted yet again with silence, Sting looked up from his book.

"Oi, are you listening?" Sting set the open book on his chest and watched as the other dragon slayer finally turned to face him. His eyes traveled from Rogue's bare chest down to the pants that were completely open and hanging low on his frame, belt long forgotten on the bedroom rug. He couldn't quite place the look he was being given. Rogue looked legitimately angry with the white dragon; his eyebrows turned inwards and his red eyes were burning with intensity. "What's the matter with you?" Sting asked, perplexed. In public, Rogue mostly kept to himself. But when they were alone, it was different. He became this bubbling mess of happiness and the two of them would talk for hours about their day and training and the cats and the guild. Any other day he would have beelined straight to the bed and snuggled up right next to Sting; it was unusual for Rogue to be acting so distant when it was just the two of them. That's what Sting was thinking, right up until his boyfriend crossed the room and stood over him.

Oh.

In one motion he had managed to sit on Sting's lap and attach himself to the dragon slayer's throat, ripping the book from his hands and throwing it in no particular direction. Sting inhaled sharply at the sudden contact, the sensation of sharp teeth sinking into his skin bringing tears to his eyes. "Rogue" he choked out, panting now as the shadow mage sucked and bit at his flesh. Rogue worked his way up from the base of his throat, leaving a trail of black and purple bruises in his wake. He placed an open mouthed kiss on the sensitive skin just behind Sting's left ear. "What's gotten into you?" Sting questioned. Rogue sat up, rolling his hips into the quite obviously growing arousal underneath him.

"Shut up." He shifted their positions, placing Sting's thighs over his own. Without skipping a beat Rogue leaned in and sank his teeth into Sting's right collarbone, this time drawing blood immediately. Sting, unexpecting such ferocity, cried out. Unfortunately for him this only egged his partner on further. Rogue's tongue glided over the marred flesh, rendering the other boy helpless as goosebumps made their appearance on his skin. Then his teeth sank in again, this time on his shoulder. "That hurts!" Sting said playfully. It took a lot more than a few bites to hurt a dragon. Rogue lifted his head and grabbed his partner by the neck, his thumb and fingers digging into the dip just under his jaw.

"I thought I told you to be quiet." It was not a question. A surprised Sting looked up at his partner, but did not utter another word. He could feel the heat radiating from the man above him, could see the dilated pupils looking back at him with such intensity that it was frightening. And it was so god damn hot. "Are you going to behave?" Rogue asked, tilting his head and eyeing his prey. Sting nodded as best as he could with a hand around this throat. "Good." Smirking, he took a moment to marvel at how flustered his partner looked – open mouthed, red faced and panting – before leaning forward to finish his handiwork. His hand let go of his neck and snaked under the fabric that was keeping Sting's throbbing hardness hidden, eliciting a gasp when his fingers wrapped around the hot skin. He worked his way up the unmarked side of Sting's neck, this time pumping his hand as he created wonderful bruises with his mouth. Sting lay squirming underneath him, not daring to complain again.

Every year, just as the last of the snow melted and the air yet again began carrying the scent of blooming greenery, all the dragon slayers across Magnolia went through a change. The members of Sabertooth would joke about the dragon slayers being in heat; their friends at Fairy Tail affectionately referred to it as "mating season." Their temperatures spiked, their senses became even more acute, and their hormones soared sky high. They went through frequent mood swings, disappearing from the outside world for days at a time. Every year up until this spring, it had been much easier to cope with. The two didn't understand why the partners of the Fairy Tail dragon slayers had always needed so much time to recuperate after mating season. That was until they realized things were much different for a dragon who had found his mate.

Once he had reached the sweet spot behind Sting's other ear, Rogue once again sat upright to marvel at his masterpiece. Sting was marked from his collarbones to his jaw. Black and purple bruises danced across his flesh; pin needle holes where Rogue's teeth had broken the skin weeped red where they were still fresh. A grin spread across his face, his free hand reaching out to drag a thumb across his partner's lower lip. "You're mine." Sting sighed happily, smiling his agreement. He tilted his head to take the appendage into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it and suckling. Rogue stilled the hand that was still in the other boy's pants; he was suddenly much more interested in something else. Sting pouted, but did not voice his disappointment. Instead he watched as his partner pulled his hands back – pulling his thumb out of Sting's mouth with a pop – to grasp at the pants still hanging loosely around Sting's hips. They were gone in seconds, the remainder of Rogue's clothing soon joining them on the floor.

Rogue leaned over his partner to open the top drawer of the beside table (or the "party drawer" as Sting liked to call it, given it's contents) to pull out a small bottle, and Sting took this opportunity to have some fun of his own. He placed open mouthed kisses across his partners chest, snaking a hand between Rogue's legs. Rogue hissed at the contact, and Sting was not surprised at all to find he was completely hard. He's probably been like this since he walked in the room, he thought to himself.

"R-Rogue?" He asked as his partner straightened himself again, not stopping the languid motions of his hand. He was certain that if it were not for the fact that Sting has his dick in his hand, Rogue would have went for his throat again. Rogue looked at him through clouded eyes. "Permission to speak, sir?" At this the shadow dragon smirked, sharp canines darting past his lips.

"Granted."

"It's just that you've been giving me so much attention," Sting wrapped his fingers around the head and squeezed gently. He smiled when he felt hot wetness reach his hand, and he wasted no time using it to slicken Rogue's heated skin. "I want to return the favor." He grinned up at his partner and dragged his tongue lazily across the top row of his teeth.

"Oh you will." Rogue's hands roamed freely across the valley of his partner's stomach muscles; traveling down to his hips and then around to his ass where he gave a firm squeeze, simultaneously lifting him up and closer to him. Two of Rogue's fingers were soon coated in the contents of the bottle that was now discarded on the bed next to them; slowly but firmly he began rubbing circles into his partner's entrance. It didn't take long for a single finger to sink in, then the other. For the most part it was usually Rogue who bottomed in their relationship, but Sting was always hot and ready for him when the roles were reversed. He pumped his hand roughly, reaching as far as he could to get to that one spot, and when he did a loud groan escaped from Sting's lips. "You'll return the favor, alright, but right now you're going to lay here and keep making those delicious noises."

Sting was moaning freely now, his head thrown back in extacy. He reached to wrap his hand around his own member, mewling in protest when Rogue's hand stilled inside of him. "Did I give you permission to touch yourself?" Rogue asked. He loomed over his partner, looking him in the eyes. Sting squirmed under the shadow dragon's gaze and tried to ignore the sudden pounding in his chest. "I asked you a question."

"N-no, sir."

"So you're not going to, are you?"

"No, sir."

"Good." Rogue grabbed a hold of one of Sting's wrists, then the other, and held them in place above his head before his other hand started moving again. Almost immediately Sting responded, gyrating his hips in time with his partner's movements. His hands clenched and unclenched while his body writhed underneath the shadow dragon slayer. It never took very long for Rogue to push him to his edge. "Rogue" he panted. "I need you."

"Beg."

"W-what?" Rogue chuckled. His hand stilled again and he pulled his fingers out agonizingly slowly.

"Look at this. The great White Dragon Slayer, reduced to a stammering mess." A cruel grin spread across his face as he reached for his own member, reveling in the shocked and irritated look he was being given as he stroked himself.

"If you want me so badly you're going to have to prove it." Again he reached for the bottle, slathering it's contents on himself. He bit back a groan as wet, hot skin pumped over his organ. Sting watched helplessly as his partner pleasured himself while he lay there hot and ready and untouched. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me. Oh god, Rogue, please. I need you inside of me plea-" A hot mouth enveloped his, cutting his sentence short. Tongues clashed against each other and Rogue positioned himself as his entrance in the blink of an eye. With no further prompting he began pushing his way into Sting's ass, the two of them moaning in tandem as he sheathed himself easily. He rocked into his partner gently at first, stretching him slowly so he didn't legitimately hurt him. When Sting gave the go ahead, however, his pace changed into something animalistic.