Their room faces the Risan sun in the morning, Damar always up early to watch the room go from dark to dawn to morning. He lays on his side, watching the Vorta sleep, nude but covered with the silk sheet, slender chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
The waves crash on the beach, a natural, smooth metronome. As the first pink rays light to room, Damar places a hand on the Vorta's abdomen, just below his "navel" from the cloning process.
The Cardassian leans in, breathing the words against Weyoun's sensitive ear. "Rise and shine, sweet thing."
Damar gives Weyoun Six three seconds to enter a state of semi-awake before the Cardassian's soft lips are on the Vorta's neck, Damar turning over in their bed, hips grinding up against the Vorta, scales against smooth skin. Weyoun's tail—the long, prehensile and definitively mammalian thing—wraps around Damar's thick thigh twice, the tufted end playing with Damar's slit.
"Mm, you know what I like..." Damar ruts a couple more times before grasping the Vorta, turning him over. "You're even worse than Seven."
"Am I?" Weyoun Six asks coyly, as if he isn't using his tail to coax out Damar's cock. Coyly as if the Vorta isn't already thighs-apart for the Cardassian. "Tell me again how he liked it."
"Rough." Damar grabs the Vorta's hips hard enough to bruise.
Weyoun Six groans, hips rolling toward Damar's hands. "And?"
"And fast." Damar takes a couple more grinds against Weyoun's thigh before the Cardassian everts. He's in Weyoun Six in a single thrust, the Vorta still a little loose from last night and from months of their fucking. He's slow for a couple thrusts before settling into something into something quick and deep.
Weyoun's nails scratch at Damar's shoulders, raking over his scales. It doesn't hurt but it's nice for Damar to know he has this sort of effect on the Vorta, that he's perverted him, that he's the only one who's ever fucked him and made him squirm and cry and claw like this.
"Damar!" Weyoun keens.
Damar gives a particularly sharp thrust, making the Vorta go quiet, boneless, eyes rolling back, the Vorta's tail wagging. The Cardassian appreciates the warmth and sensitivity of the Vorta, the way Weyoun milks him.
"I should take you in and get you fixed up like a breeding bitch," Damar hisses.
Weyoun rocks his hips weakly.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? A horny little thing in heat."
Weyoun nods, clinging to Damar. "Please."
Damar takes his time, grabbing the Vorta's hips, using him like a toy. "You're so broken. I could just do whatever I wanted to you."
The slow pace makes Weyoun roll his hips, skin stretched taut over the lean muscles of his abdomen. Seeing the Vorta frustrated gets Damar off, knowing he's the only one who can make the Vorta cum.
It makes Damar cum.
He always makes sure to fill the Vorta, remind him with the single large flood of fluid, who he belongs to, who he's pledged himself to.
"Damar!" Weyoun's nails glance off the Cardassian's scales again. "Corat!"
The Vorta's cum twice. It almost doesn't seem fair. Damar savages the Vorta's neck, biting hard enough to leave marks that will be difficult to cover.
Once they've both recovered slightly, Weyoun sits up, combing back Damar's dishevelled hair, the Vorta's tail resting politely on the bed, parallel to the Vorta's thigh. The sunrise lights the room in gold, Weyoun's fair skin seeming to glow.
"We could go down to the beach," Weyoun says softly. "Go for a swim."
"I could fuck you on the beach."
"We just need to fight the right spot," Weyoun says. "I don't want anyone else seeing you the way I get to."
"Possessive," Damar teases, laughing against one of the bites he's left. "First, we'll need a shower."
"I feel full and sticky," Weyoun says making a face as if he doesn't enjoy it.
Damar kisses along the Vorta's pulse before getting out of bed, lifting the Vorta and carrying him off to shower.