The two had since finished their meals and now rested on the scout's comfy green couch in his quiet, cozy living room. Teemo had a fire going, its playful crackle adding to their newly refreshed spirits. Veigar found himself nestled in his lover's lap with one arm around the scout's waist and his legs hanging over the edge of their seat. They were talking about anything and everything: vague childhood memories, Teemo's exploits on his missions, their most hated champions on and off the rift (of which Veigar's list was staggeringly long,) and anything else the pair could think of to pass the time. Teemo often led their talks, and this was no exception; when Veigar did chime in, however, his train of thought usually carried on far longer than anyone else would have the endurance to tolerate. Unfortunately for the Swift Scout, he had dragged the conversation into a rather undesirable position.
"...Couldn't select a single Demacian who has yet to irritate me," the mage said rather heatedly, his free hand waving back and forth as he spoke. "All they ever do is babble on and on and on about their grossly cliche ideals of justice and unity and color-coding their outfits. It isn't even entertaining blather, just condescending nonsense! And they are especially guilty of chiding us yordles as if we were pets or children, hardly capable of coherent thought."
"Aw, I think that's a little unfair," chimed Teemo. "Lux at least can be nice, if not a little overbearing at times. And...you know, uh...there are others."
"Even you can barely bring yourself to defend them, hon. Clearly that speaks for something."
"Could we maybe change the subject? Perhaps to something a little less, I dunno, offens—"
"—And Noxians, I could speak ill of Noxians for an eternity and then some! If Demacians are to a rash, then Noxians are a cancer! If I were capa—bhmm!"
The mage was silenced by Teemo ramming his mouth against the other's. Veigar's eyes briefly went wide as he fumbled to keep himself upright, failing miserably and landing with his back against the nearest cushion and his lover's body weighing down on him just slightly. The air was sapped from his lungs, but he soon found he didn't miss it very much at all. There was no need for air in a vacuum, and at that moment it was as if a rift had been torn through Veigar's world and left him secluded, encapsulated with his only companion. He allowed his eyes to close and himself to enjoy the warmth that came from his partner's fuzzy lips against his, caressing the scout's built chest with one hand and pulling his head closer with the other.
Teemo eagerly agreed to deepen the kiss, sliding his own paws down Veigar's backside. He explored the mage's thin figure and sloping curves with his gentle touch, delicately tracing the shallow crevice on Veigar's back with his finger and causing the smaller yordle to release a reluctant moan. A naughty thought crossed the scout's mind, to which he readily heeded, grasping the mage's rear in his hands and earning a surprised gasp for his efforts. He felt Veigar's heartbeat fighting to break out of his chest as he held one of the mage's cheeks in each hand, giving the firm rump a strong squeeze and lifting him slightly to remind him who was in control.
Veigar was not used to giving up the dominant role in their relationship so easily. Perhaps he was feeling a bit tired from the trek he made, or a bit generous after the tension he had caused between them earlier, but each action made by his partner drove him further and further from a position of power, and he had done nothing to stop it. For every second that passed where he felt his face flush with growing pleasure and embarrassment, where his ass was fondled and molested, where an immovable wall of desire clouded his judgement, submitting became a much simpler task.
Teemo recognized Veigar was easing into his more passive position, and began sliding his tongue into the dark furred yordle's mouth, fighting to keep his dominance. The mage felt the wet appendage glide past his lips and between his teeth with graceful ease, hastily meeting it with his own. Warm, moist sensations like a morning fog drifted over his taste buds as the two wrestled, Veigar eventually giving in and allowing the scout's tongue to perform reconnaissance over the entirety of his oral cavern, leaving no wall unexplored. A light, playful nibbling at the mage's lower lip was the last measure necessary for him to lower what little of his defenses remained, and he began melting to Teemo's touch, clinging to him as if his life depended on it, panting like a mutt out of pure desperation.
A minute or so passed before the scout decided it was time to move on, pulling away from his lover and lowering him gently back onto his lap, placing his hands on the mage's waist. The two were left absolutely breathless, and what had seemed a mere distraction was now the sole reason for living as they tried to suck in as much precious air as possible. They locked eyes, Teemo's half closed in a lustful stare as he watched the other, and Veigar's wide open in shock, pulsing with dependence he wasn't even bothering to hide. The scout licked his own lips clean, using his thumb to wipe away any spittle left driveling down his partner's chin.
"You seemed to be enjoying that," Teemo said. He made his voice sound a bit deeper to reflect the mood, developing an air of cockiness he didn't wear often.
Veigar was stunned speechless for a moment, then, as if realizing the position he had put himself in, cleared his throat and ran his fingers through the fur on his head, anything in an attempt to steel his nerves. "Only a formality, I assure you." The two shared a chuckle, and Veigar became woefully aware of a hand at his crotch. "Er..."
"Only a formality, huh?" the scout teased, poking and prodding at the bulge that had formed in the mage's pants. Veigar hadn't noticed how painfully tight his jeans had become until Teemo's actions. Having him tug on the length certainly didn't help the situation, only making Veigar's face scrunch up in the mix of pleasure and pain. "For someone who prides himself on the mystery and illusions he creates, you're a pretty terrible liar, babe."
"I...erm...you can't..." Veigar had trouble coming up with the words as his partner's stroking became more intense, a teasing series of squeezes that were rough enough to be felt, but were too gentle to provide any lasting relief.
"What do you say we take this into my bedroom?" Teemo purred, having more fun messing with his partner than he cared to admit. "You were planning on staying the night here anyway, right?"
"I-I...Y-Y..." The mage's hand shot out and grabbed the wrist of his lover, stopping his assault at last. "Yes! Please, I don't care whether you take me to a romantic beach-side hammock or a clammy old dungeon, just tear these damnable articles of clothing off of me already!"
The scout smiled knowingly and began to comply, scooping the mage up in his arms effortlessly and planting a quick kiss on his check. Veigar nuzzled his furry cheek into the mane of red fur that hung around Teemo's neck and closed his eyes, willing the journey to the scout's bedroom to be as short as possible. It wasn't that he did not enjoy his current position, but his patience had been eroded by the teasing of his partner. "Feel free to run, so long as you're careful not to drop me."
"As if I'd ever let that happen," Teemo assured him, his smooth tone spreading infectious joy to the yordle in his arms.
Teemo took long strides across the small living space, and they arrived at the scout's room before the mage had time to calm the rapid beating in his chest. Its size and scope were comparable to the house's other rooms, occupied only by a couple drawers and a bed barely large enough for the two to share. It was draped in, as Veigar suspected, scarlet sheets to match the rest of the living quarters. He shifted his weight as the scout moved to set him down on the carpeted floor, a soft material squishing between his toes. A somewhat pleasant feeling, but nothing compared to—
An unrestrained moan slipped out between his lips as he felt those of his lover brush the back of his neck. The scout's touch was soft as he wrapped his arms around Veigar from behind, caressing him against his chest while he began to kiss at the mage's furred skin. Ripples of pleasure shook Veigar's system from Teemo's acts, but not enough to leave him satisfied. Keeping one eye open, he guided the scout's eager paws underneath his shirt, shivering when his touch met bare skin. Teemo took notice of his advantageous situation, thinking himself a captain issuing silent orders to his underling with nothing but his presence. Veigar allowed the scout's confidence to build, releasing more ecstatic cries as his hips were being massaged. His rubbing was so sweet, so caring and gentle...too gentle. "Squeeze harder, love, I'm not some balloon you need be afraid to pop," he said, somehow able to find the words in spite of his mind steadily going fuzzy. "Well, I suppose in other ways..."
Veigar attempted in vain to hold himself together as Teemo found the courage to press harder. Dainty kisses at his neck became a rapid series of licks and suckling, dampening his fur. He felt his lover's teeth press and slide against him, still too hesitant to bite. To make up for that was the intensity of his core being ravaged by the scout's shaking hands; what used to feel like kittens were now feral beasts rampaging along the surface of his body. They stomped and prodded at everything, from well defined abdomen to the faint muscles beneath his shoulder blades to the valley in the center of his chest, until no bit of flesh was left undisturbed. The mage's high pitched moans and grunts fluttered ceaselessly during his molesting, the confines of his jeans now more painful and constricting than ever. Teemo's own erection pressed against Veigar's rear end as if to tease his entrance, making the task of staying patient with his partner all the more difficult.
After minutes of the scout alternating between sucking on several different spots of Veigar's neck, the mage felt all the sensations leave him at once. He was vaguely aware of his shirt being grabbed at the bottom and tugged up over his head, leaving the upper half of his body completely exposed. Almost instinctively he moved his arms to cover himself, but the cautious weight of Teemo resting against his shoulders reminded him he was safe, and for the most part, alone.
"I-I'd say that's enough for a warm-up, wouldn't you?" The mage insisted, spinning to face the other yordle and taking a step back.
Teemo wasted no time re-closing the gap between them. "A warm-up, huh?" he said, cupping the mage's cheeks and jaw in his hands. He placed an earnest kiss on the bridge of Veigar's nose. "You're definitely warm, all right." The scout's eyes scoured Veigar's slim form hungrily, sending the mage into a furious fit of blushing. Seeing his partner stop to stare at the the bulge formed in his pants did nothing to ease his tenseness. "And from the look of it, more than a little bit excited, too."
Veigar pretended to pout, glaring daggers at his partner. Perhaps I've allowed you to run a little too wild.
"It would appear I'm not the only one." The mage's voice was a sultry whisper, commanding enough to coerce a man off a cliff. Grinning, he reached over and grabbed his lover's member through the softer cloth he wore and squeezed. Hard. He nearly laughed when Teemo jumped, looking bewildered by the sudden turn of events. "Hmph. Perhaps I was mistaken. There's hardly anything here for you to show me." He slid his hand up the solid shaft nonchalantly, as comfortably as though he were wielding his own staff. A sizeable length in truth, but he doesn't need to know that. "And why should I be the only one uncovered? Unless, you were scared to show me anything?"
By then Teemo had caught on to the mage's petty game, the two now staring into each other's eyes. A challenge. A standoff. The expression on the scout's face was impossible to read, equal parts daring and confused. Veigar was enticed by the thrill of anticipating what may come next, sweat plastering fur to his forehead. What, did I worry you truly, Teemo? Will I have to move this forward myself...?
Unpredictably, Teemo tore his own shirt off in one swift motion, discarding it along with the mage's. Veigar had a moment for his eyes to drink in the sight before him, and he was careful not to waste any of it. Unruly tan fur sprouted like wild grasslands around the scout's entire body with streaks of a darker brown cutting across his midriff and accenting his comparably lesser curves. He was well toned, every inch of him covered in lean muscle that was no doubt the product of his tough line of work. Far from burly or even stocky, Teemo's figure was still cute enough to be all that Veigar could ask for, even though the mage would never admit it out loud.
Without warning, the mage's gawking was cut short by Teemo slamming his lips against the other's. He stumbled over his own paws as the scout threw his arms around the thinner yordle haphazardly, their combined weight and gravity carrying them further. Veigar felt his legs collide with something soft and his knees buckle, letting out a pained grunt when he fell onto the bed beneath him and his partner came crashing down on top of him.
Veigar struggled against the grasp Teemo had on him, but soon dismissed the fruitless effort. The mage was scrawny in comparison; his legs were longer while his shoulders were much less broad, almost womanly in his curves. No part of him was particularly muscular, and he had no intentions of stooping so low as to use magic to bend his way out of the predicament. The scout had no problem overpowering Veigar and pinning him to the mattress, forcing the helpless mage's arms above his head.
I suppose this is what I wanted, more or less. The mage managed the thought while Teemo shoved his tongue through Veigar's defenseless lips, any hope of retaliation abandoning him. He rather liked the new position he was thrust in, anyway; the scout had one hand holding each of the mage's wrists together, the other searching frantically for the means to undo Veigar's zipper. Almost periodically Teemo released a low, pleased growl from his throat, resonating in the mage's mouth and forming a cadence with his own higher pitched whines. As the scout pushed further and further down, the fur on their chests continued to mesh more tightly together, interlocked like puzzle pieces that were designed to fit together. The tingling sensation this brought towards his core, combined with the submissive feeling of being held down caused Veigar's mind to race with adrenaline, nearly overwhelming his own senses.
After what felt an eternity, Teemo finally managed to undo the restraints on the mage's jeans, sliding them off bit by bit until they sank to the floor in a heap, which he kicked away moments after. Veigar's heart beat harder and the heat on his face became more apparent than ever when more of his coverings were removed, leaving only a pair of tented black boxers to sheath his eager sword. He felt himself being slid further up the bed so that his hind paws could no longer touch the floor, his naked legs left to dangle uselessly to the sides of him.
Breaking the kiss between them, Teemo briefly met his lover's anxious stare with a serene one, his warm brown eyes making a silent promise, though neither was quite sure of what. He then released his grip on Veigar's arms and shimmied down his body so that his chin was nestled on the mage's chest, holding his hips firmly to relax him and hold them both in place. Settling in to his position, the scout placed a few playful kisses along Veigar's abdomen, thick black fur tickling his snout and making him giggle. He took turns lapping at the spots on his partner's chest where he knew his nipples to be hidden, causing the mage to noticeably shake and vibrate from the torturous pleasure it brought him.
"P-please, no more teasing, my beloved," Veigar begged, craving some form of release above anything else. "I've waited long enough!"
Teemo mockingly thought about it for a moment, audibly humming to himself. "I guess I could give you a break, tough guy," he puffed, his actions clearly taking a larger toll on him than he initially led on. He slid even further down, leaving his hands to caress the mage's hips, now hovering just over his tented undergarments. "Clearly, you need one." He eyed the vaguely defined wet spot where the mage had already begun to make a mess, taking in just the tip of his clothed member and giving it a lick.
"T-teemo!" cried the mage, overwhelmed by the sensations swelling in his groin, feeling his prick jump from the attention. He was annoyed with his lover at this point. How much longer did he plan to delay the inevitable?
Veigar's question was answered when the scout curled his fingers around the mage's waistband, then, at an agonizingly slow pace, rolled his underwear down and over his erect manhood. Veigar uttered a loud gasp as his prick sprang from its confines and met with the slightly cooler air, the relief of it finally being unveiled running like a cool stream through his body. Teemo pulled the boxers over Veigar's feet and threw them aside, never taking his eyes off the sizeable length standing at attention in front of him. The mage's wand and balls were covered by a thinner coat of the same midnight fur that occupied the rest of his body, the former's tip dribbling with precum that appeared to glisten in the dim light.
Veigar watched abashed as Teemo reached out to wrap his diligent fingers around the base of the wand, brushing against the thicker bush of hair that surrounded it and beginning to stroke along its entire length at a slow and steady paced. He tilted his head back and rest it against the bed, overly sensitive to the touch of his partner after so much deliberation. The scout was forced to hold Veigar in place by his hip to keep the mage from squirming out of his grasp like a netted fish, but did not mind it too terribly. If anything, his lover's sensitivity, the feeling of Veigar's prick twitching and letting more juices out in sudden spurts only added to his amusement. Veigar knew the scout enjoyed feeling needed, and if the scrunched up look of desperation and sudden spasms rocking his body wasn't enough to imply the mage needed him, nothing could get the message across.
While the added pre began to run down to his fingers and help lubricate the cock, Teemo leaned his head forward, and took one of the mage's low-dangling balls into his mouth, causing the dark yordle to shudder. The scout sucked on the rounded testicle and rolled it over with his tongue, the musky taste and aroma that came with the act serving to turn him on even more. He switched to the other orb before long and delivered it the same kind of attention, continuing to pump his partner's manhood with vigor that surprised even himself. He found he wanted to do anything he could to please the adorable yordle writhing beneath him, and figured he knew exactly what buttons to push to get him over the edge.
The Scout gave one last lingering lick to Veigar's fuzzy balls before pulling away, seeking to claim his real prize at last. A bit of his saliva dripped onto the tip of his mate's member as positioned himself over it, gripping it tightly to hold it in place. Veigar heard him take in one big gulp of air before a pleasant, sticky heat engulfed the the top half of the mage's manhood. He clutched at the bed sheets as though he were about to float away at a moment's notice, and perhaps with his lightheadedness he would. It was all too much to concentrate on at once: the warmth of the muzzle working to encompass more and more of his length, the scout's tongue snaking around pole over every pulsing vein, his free hand returned to Veigar's now spittle-soaked pouches and massaging them relentlessly...the mage feared he might faint, but refused to miss a single second of the immense satisfaction he felt right then.
Teemo reached the bottom of the throbbing rod, his nose pushing against his mate's soft belly. Successfully over the first hurdle, he began working his way back up the shaft, bobbing his head up and down like a fishing lure in wild currents. The tedious, rhythmic motion allowed him to find a steady groove and let his subconscious take over while he focused on enjoying the bristles of fur tickling the inside of his mouth and throat, and the sour taste of his partner's precum dancing on his tongue. Veigar felt himself approaching his high, scratching at and shoving the scout's head harder against his cock. He thrust upward weakly in time with Teemo's bobbing and sucking, encouraging the scout to work as fast as possible. He felt something strong beginning to build in his loins, something that in some ways was even more powerful than any spells he could hope to conjure.
"I-I'm close..." the mage uttered, a redundant statement to the scout, who had picked up on the signs of Veigar's climax long before. Teemo kept to his pattern with stern care, eagerly anticipating what was to come next. As the mage's moans crescendoed to near shrieks of tension pleading to be released, Teemo moved each of his hands underneath the mage to his buttocks, squeezing the rump hard and lifting Veigar's hips even higher, completely erasing the gap between them.
The act proved to be the last thing needed to set the mage over the edge. He dug his fingers into the scout's fur, the room around them and the bed he lay sprawled on seeming to vanish in its insignificance. All that mattered was the intoxicating, unrelenting swell of pleasure rushing through his manhood and staggering his entire body. His hairs stood on end, his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he released a muffled cry that only his mate could be graced with hearing. Sweet release washed over him as his pent up tension shot out the tip of his manhood in the form of warm, sticky spunk. Wave after wave splattered the back of Teemo's throat and his teeth as he struggled to hold the copious amounts of cum all at once. He swallowed what he could willingly, pulling away from the spent shaft to cough up the rest into his open palm.
Veigar permitted himself to bask in the afterglow, relaxing his muscles against the cushiony bed beneath him and catching his breath. The stimulus he experienced was relieving, like a cool glass of water at the end of a long hot day, only this had been a fair bit more thrilling. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes glazed over in bliss, soaking in the dampness of his fur and the lingering sweetness rumbling in his crotch.
His period of serenity was cut short when he noticed his partner gawking at his nude form openly, the scout's eyes trailing every curve, every morsel of cute, furred flesh, spending extra time on Veigar's now semi-flaccid member. Now that his adrenaline rush had subsided, the mage's prudence was returning, and he felt himself flush with embarrassment.
"Enjoying your little show, patter-paws?" Veigar muttered, turning his head to avoid eye contact but making no effort to cover himself.
Teemo's big, dumb smile did not waver. "Sorry, not my fault you look so cute laying on your back like that." He brought a paw to Veigar's cheek and spun him so their eyes met, the scout trying to convince him he had nothing to be nervous about with just his loving gaze. Veigar allowed himself to be kissed again, a bit opposed to the taste of himself on his lover's lips, yet he returned it all the same. It was a tender, more heartfelt kiss, not so much about one dominating the other as it was about sharing the affection. Teemo's nails scratched and brushed against the fur on Veigar's face, another calming message that coerced the mage into a state of content, one he welcomed without too much upheaval. Pah, look at me. The Master of Evil, trapped beneath the soldier who was once a sworn enemy, naked as a babe and wonderfully enchanted with the whole situation. And why should I ever be anything less? Why should I let some arbitrary reputation, the worthless thoughts of the brainless masses control my actions to any degree? Perhaps Teemo was right to grow irritated with me...
Veigar was startled from his peacefulness a second time by an odd fabric rubbing at his thighs. He placed a hand on Teemo's chest and broke their affectionate kissing, eyeing him curiously. "What the hell are you still doing with your pants on?" he asked, incredulous. "You did intend to have a little fun for yourself, didn't you?"
Teemo blinked and managed a confused, "U-uh...um," the gears in his head working to churn out a reasonable answer. The mage permitted him a moment to think, figuring they were too far along for the scout to give up the upper hand. Eventually he smiled knowingly and said, "Of course, I just wanted to make sure I took care of your needs first, otherwise I'd never hear an end to your insufferable whining." Teemo mocked the mage's own chastising tone, mimicking his air of superiority with less than convincing accuracy. "So I better not hear any complaining, am I clear?"
Veigar couldn't help but smirk at the scout's feigned confidence. "You won't hear a peep of protest from me so long as you strip off those damned trousers within the next ten seconds."
The bed creaked as Teemo stood up, reaching under his waistband. He made of show of pulling his pants and undergarments below his crotch at once, his member flapping out of its nest and swaying up and down with its momentum. Veigar couldn't help but stare at his partner's rod, caught in a sort of trance by its hypnotic movements. It was made obvious their previous interactions left the scout a bit excited; the rod was fully erect, a size comparable to the mage's own, its tip already moist with a collected sheen of precum. Avoiding the notice of his lover, Veigar extended his left leg and brushed the swollen cock with his hind paw, taking a single stroke from tip to base. It felt warm and firm on his paw pads, and the mage felt his own erection rapidly returning from the act and his vulnerable position.
He flinched when Teemo's hand shot out to snatch his ankle, gripping it protectively as though it were a caged animal attempting escape. "Naughty, naughty..." the scout murmured with a hint of seduction, stepping closer to the bed and taking Veigar's other ankle in his free hand. To his own surprise, the mage felt his legs gradually being spread apart, his saliva and sweat coated balls slapping unceremoniously against the bed frame. "And to think I was toying with the idea of being gentle with you..."
Veigar, despite his rather perilous situation, managed a toothy grin. "Who the fuck said anything about gentle?"
Not a second passed before he felt himself being hoisted upwards. Teemo hooked the mage's legs over his shoulders with one to either side, leaving Veigar's ass dangling in the air over the bed's edge. The scout closed what little gap remained between them until the mage's thighs were approaching a ninety degree angle. The head of Teemo's cock prodded and teased at his entrance, Veigar's own manhood now flopping backwards so it pointed at his chest and face rather precariously. It was a strangely comfortable, if not a bit daunting, position that Veigar found himself trapped in, and he was already long past the point of protesting.
"T-Teemo," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm serious about what I said. I want you to fuck me hard, got that? I promise whatever you think you can dish out, I've endured worse."
The scout stayed silent at first, running his hands down Veigar's furry legs that bristled at his touch. He gave the poised rump waiting for him a good slap once he reached it, causing the mage to jump and wriggle in his entrapment. "Oh, yeah? Let's see how you feel about that once I'm finished with you..."
Veigar had thought himself well prepared mentally for the assault his lover had him primed for. All of that preparation dissipated once Teemo's tower of meat forced its way past the mage's ring, its protective owner releasing a shocked and pained cry. His inner walls met the rod as they would an uninvited guest, clamping down hard around its curved edges like a sprung trap and holding it at bay. He bit his tongue in a vain attempt to fight the groans of terror and discomfort rising in his throat, clenching his entire body as the alien sensation grew stronger.
"Ngh...you're pretty tight, love," the scout huffed, his own face scrunched up with the immense effort of sliding his manhood further into Veigar's well-protected pucker. Only about a third of his length had passed the mage's stubborn defenses, though more of it slowly but surely disappeared into the hole. He redoubled his efforts, making small thrusting motions with his hips to carve out a path for himself in Veigar's rear, much to the darker yordle's dismay.
"Hnnnghaa...Ah!"
Veigar struggled to enjoy the attention his ass was receiving, the battle of pleasure versus pain proving to be a strenuous one to be certain. Every inch of fuzzy flesh that slid further into him and expanded his walls was another layer of a bizarre burning sensation, like hot coals against his skin. Refusing to surrender, he gripped the bed sheets tighter in his fists and grit his teeth, fighting the urge to squeal at his partner to pull his member out.
After what very well could have been hours to the mage's mind, his lover's prick slid all the way to its base, somewhat tired hips resting against mounds of perked up flesh. Teemo took notice of Veigar's discomfort and waited patiently for the darker yordle to adjust, shifting slightly to a more desirable angle. "I-I'm ready, unless you've gotten cold f–mmph!"
Teemo wasted no time bringing his hips back and slamming them against the mage's unsuspecting rear, rocking both their entire bodies with the motion. Jolts of a stabbing pain shocked Veigar's system, but they were soon overpowered by the ripples of pleasure that warded them off. The mage covered his mouth and released a muffled groan, heartbeat quickening and his own arousal spiking once again. He gave up in his attempts to mask the sounds of sex that he knew would escape him and concentrated on enjoying the newfound joy in his lover's aggression; each time he felt himself penetrated the pain grew more dull and his nerves soared higher in bliss. Teemo's pace hastened as he became more familiar with the shape of Veigar's warm caverns, his manhood leaking like a broken faucet and providing a steady lubricant for his unrestrained thrusts.
"Harder, l-love," Veigar sputtered weakly, "you still haven't –AH!"
Veigar's back arched and his member throbbed in a burst of pleasure which shattered any doubts he'd still needlessly clung to. The scout had struck his prostate, the spark that ignited his senses and rocketed him to an otherworldly pleasure. "T-there! Again!" He was practically a mess by then, his gaping entrance quivering from the beating it was taking, his legs kicking frantically at the air, only held in place by the scout's strong grip.
Teemo heeded his lover's begging and jousted into the same spot, his content growls creeping out between his wide smile and mingling with the wails of the mage. Instinct propelled his hips forward and back, the sight of Veigar writhing beneath him and the desperation in his golden eyes making his actions second nature. Even as he dominated his partner, his prick engulfed in a homely warm and pulsing with yet unfulfilled desires, his balls fit to burst as they slapped against the wet skin in front of them, Teemo found his attention dedicated to ensuring Veigar was as satisfied with their encounter as possible. At that very moment, he spied the dark furred yordle's rod bouncing lonely and unattended in the chaos; the next instant he held it firmly between his fingers and was beginning to stroke it.
Veigar squealed and swatted uselessly at the hand mauling his manhood, but ultimately succumbed to the wild over-stimulus that came with being overpowered at both ends. He was baffled Teemo had managed to hold in his orgasm for so long with how huge his member had grown between the mage's cheeks; it had been thrust into him and carved out his insides so many times it felt less like an invader and more a guest of honor, the shared space belonging to both the yordles simultaneously. The mage grew hard as marble, already feeling that wonderful swelling sensation stirring in his loins.
Another minute, or perhaps a century, passed and Veigar could take no more. He attempted to warn his partner, but only primal, lustful moans sang for the scout's ears as the darker yordle's back arched and his churned insides released one last, spectacular burst of passion. He shut his eyes and shuddered when his own sticky seed splashed onto his face, squirt after squirt painting his head and chest a milky white until his reserves were depleted. Embarrassment may have come later, but in the heat of the moment Veigar fell back, ascended into a state of complete nirvana, happier than had ever felt in his life.
Seeing his lover cum must have sent Teemo into a frenzy. Following three full thrusts and an ear turning scream he came as well, filling Veigar's hole with hot liquid that seeped out and onto the cock that produced it. He stayed frozen with the two of them still connected, inseparable for a time, listening to the rise and fall of their stabilizing breaths, in a sort of disbelief over how strongly he felt about the cute and utterly spent yordle laying on his bed. Pulling out of the mage with an audible "plop," Teemo shifted him upwards so he could lay comfortably with his entire body on the mattress, then crawled up besides his lover and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"You were...incredible," the scout managed, using the bed sheets to wipe up some of the mess on Veigar's chest and his tongue to lap up the seed pooled on the mage's face. Veigar didn't mind the warm appendage at his face, nor his lover's softening member pressing lazily against his thigh. He lay there wondering how anything could turn out so perfectly, much less for him, a bitter, scarred dark mage with only a peppy, lonely scout for company. He wanted, no, needed this flawless reality for him and Teemo whenever possible, even as his better judgement argued otherwise. Everything should be perfect. Perfect, yet there is one more matter that requires solving...
"Ha...H-Had I given you cause to expect...anything less?" he jested, though Teemo did not stop his licking, wanting to make sure the mage was fully cared for. "Teemo..."
He hesitated. Is this really what I want? To forever condemn myself here, in the arms of a yordle who would protect those I may still wish to harm? Who would oppose my evil at every turn?
One glance at his lover smuggled beside him was all he needed to make up his mind. "I-I've given thought to what you've said earlier, and...it would an honor to live with you here. That is, if you would still have me."'
Teemo's eyes grew wider than saucers. "You...you mean it!? Vei...I couldn't ask you to do that for me so soon after—"
"—There's no need to ask anything of me, because I've already decided." He rested a hand on his lover's bare arm and played with the strands of fur sprouting there ceaselessly, until he could pluck all doubts from his mind. "You were right, it was my stubborn pride keeping me from here, but I won't let it rule me any longer. I want to be with you always, Teemo, and the insolence of others can do nothing to deter me any longer."
The scout remained silent for the longest time, still unsure whether what he was hearing could be possible and not an exhaustion induced hallucination. Eventually he leaned forward and kissed his partner on the lips, and any doubts about the truth of it all fluttered away like specks of dust on the wind.
"You need anything to sleep in?" The scout asked him once they were curled beneath the blanket, heads resting on a shared pillow. "I'm sure I have something that would fit you..."
Veigar shifted in Teemo's grasp, the scout laying behind him with his hands around his chest and their legs intertwined. "Unless you planned on other guests arriving, no. This will suffice."
Sleep took the tired souls soon after, and for perhaps the first time in an eternity, Veigar could drift off to sleep soundly without feeling so alone.