Chapter 1 – Acquiring Pets

Summary – Mal didn't like Auradon, but when it all but threw allies into her lap, who was she to ignore them? Chad and Doug might not seem like the biggest prizes in the world, but as far as pets went, they were pretty okay. Decent at supplying information, and Chad was kind of funny, she guessed.

And maybe, just *maybe* Mal was getting a little too attached to them, but the sex was good and their dedication unwavering and if she had to be in this shitty place anyway, she may as well get some benefits.

Also known as: That time Mal accidentally acquired two boyfriends and then accidentally fell in love with them, or maybe just acknowledged that she was capable of love the whole time, and that love extended past her two newest pets.

Ugh, way to complicate taking over the world.

-:-:-

Mal hated Auradon.

It was too bright, too open and whole and complete. Everything was clean and shining, everything was perfect and Mal despised it, that they could have something so lovely and good and hog it all to themselves while children lived on the Isle in squalor. It made her want to scratch the eyes out of every young royal she saw, made her want to yank at perfectly curled hair and punch stupidly white teeth until they seemed to be as ugly as the gross injustices they inflicted upon children and petty criminals who did not deserve it.

She hated a lot of things about Auradon, a list that grew with each passing moment, but the particular annoyance for that day centered around Auradon Prep and its wide sprawling hallways that all looked exactly alike.

It was a Saturday, the weekend, so the campus was emptier than usual. There were only a few uptight goody-goodies in the halls to give her scared or suspicious looks. To date, the only people that weren't openly terrified of the VKs were Ben (the idiot), Doug (the nerd), and Lonnie (who seemed to possess the same disregard for her personal safety as Jay).

Mal was wandering the school with the illusion of testing the bounds of her freedom, but really she was strategizing, trying to get a good feel for escape routes, which would be a lot easier if all the damn halls didn't look the same.

She knew she could ask the enchanted knight armors and they would answer any question she had, but Mal didn't trust magic that was not her own. She'd survived this long on nothing but willpower and the help of her crew and she wasn't going to start getting soft now just because they were in stupid Auradon.

"Hey."

The voice was gentle, male – seemingly not-accusatory, but that didn't mean shit here. Mal turned to see the source of the voice and found the embodiment of everything she hated in Auradon – stupid blond curls and bright blue eyes, sparkling white teeth and clothes that were high quality and almost painfully clean.

His shoes were yellow. Who the fuck wore yellow shoes?

"Are you looking for the art room?" blond doofus asked, offering her a small grin. It was not like the ones used by a majority of the princes that went here – whose smiles were huge and full of life, often followed by echoed laughter they felt no need to contain.

This smile was a tiny thing, though it did not seem to be that way out of fear.

"What?" Mal snapped, bothered by the contradicting behavior.

"The art room?" the guy repeated, pointing to the beaten sketchbook Mal had clutched in her arms as a cover.

She had a half-finished picture of Carlos in it, the young De Ville tinkering as he hid out under the stupidly large bed Prince Benjamin had given him to sleep on, and she'd intended for it to act as a sort of unspoken approval for this behavior, because to this day Carlos still second-guessed Mal's judgement of his coping mechanisms. Like they weren't all fucked up.

"They have free hours on the weekends," the blond guy continued, seemingly unconcerned with Mal's lack of reply. "You can go and use the supplies to make things. Paintings and drawings and um- pottery and stuff." He paused for a second, chewing on his bottom lip. It was full and stupidly pink, and if he were on the Isle, it would have taken maybe two minutes for him to become someone's bitch, with lips like that. "You're one of the transfer kids, right?"

Mal supposed that was the nice way of putting it. "Yeah," she said, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's it to you?"

"Oh." The guy blinked, all shocked. He must be dumber than Ben was. "I just- that means that your scholarship covers your use of um- all the school amenities."

This was new information to Mal. Then again, they had been given a lot of reading material when they'd first shown up that Evie was still trying to comb through.

"So are you looking for the art room?" blondie asked. "Or um- would you like to go to the art room?"

"You wanna show me?" Mal asked, every inch of the words dripping in challenge, an interrogation, because nothing came for free.

Except blondie was an idiot and seemed to take that as an invitation, his dumb small grin getting bigger. "Yeah, I can do that," he said, holding out his arm.

Mal stared at it for a moment, wondering what the hell he was trying to accomplish, before that grin faded into a bashful expression.

"You um- take it," he said. "But only if you want," he rushed to add. "It's a formal escort thing. Sorry. I don't do it that often."

"Obviously," Mal said, ignoring the arm and taking a deft step away as a subtle hint for them to get on with things. "The art room?"

And just like that, he was back to happy.

Well, her mother had always said that the ignorant lived truly charmed lives.

"This way," blondie said, motioning for Mal to follow him. His gaze flickered over to her sketchpad as they walked. "Is that one of your friends?"

Mal pressed the sketchbook closer to her chest. "I don't have friends."

"Oh." He blinked again, like he was visually processing this, and then instead of pity or sorrow (which seemed to be the expected response when Auradon shits reacted to Isle culture), he brightened with a grin. "Hey, I don't either. Want to be mine?"

Mal stopped. Actually stopped.

"Okay," she growled, shifting her sketchbook to her left arm so she could draw her knife if necessary. "What's your angle?"

"My what?" To this point, all of his reactions had seemed genuine, but that didn't mean they were. Mal had known a handful of brilliant liars in her time – Evie was one of them – that did not mean they were relegated to the Isle alone.

"What do you want?" Mal pressed, baring her teeth so he could drop the act already. "You trying to get close so you can keep an eye on me?"

"Um- no?" If he was lying, his confusion was brilliantly maintained. On second thought, if this guy was on the Isle, he'd only look like someone's bitch, but there was no question that he'd be entirely in control. Assuming he actually was lying. "I just- you seem cool."

"I seem cool?" Mal echoed, feeling out the word even though she'd heard it in reference before – usually from Lonnie, who was rarely referring to temperature.

"Yes?" blondie was ducking his head now, an embarrassed flush growing on his cheeks. Because flattery got you everything. "Sorry-"

"You're sorry," Mal deadpanned.

"-for bothering you," the guy continued, really trying to butter her up. That, or he was playing the pathetic approach to give her a feeling of control and superiority. "But I- I thought I could help, and we don't have to be friends-"

"So you'd be fine helping me without getting anything in return?" Mal probed, trying to get a better feel for the lay of the land.

He blinked those stupidly blue eyes at her. "Yes?" he said, like it was trick question. "It's the nice thing to do."

"And I wouldn't know that," Mal deduced. "Because I'm from the Isle."

"What? No," he rushed to explain, trying to save the situation. "That's not what I meant. I mean, my mom- that's what she wanted most of all. Was um- kindness. So I try to do that."

"Momma's boy, huh?" Mal drawled, because for whatever reason Auradon kids seemed real attached to their parents despite not explicitly needing their reputations for survival. "Who is she?"

Blondie seemed completely surprised by this question. "What?"

"Who is she?" Mal repeated, losing her patience.

"She um… was Queen Ella," the guy said, shifting his feet uneasily and finally, finally Mal put a name to the face, remembered the crumpled newspaper clippings Jay had collected for insulation that featured headlines for Queen Ella's funeral, 'A Tragic loss for Sardinia' that showed a depressed king and a tiny boy with blond curls.

Prince Chadwick. But one of Evie's many targets in her quest to become a 'real' royal. Like she wasn't already a princess.

"She died when I was little," Chadwick continued, like Mal was completely ignorant. "But I try to live the way she would have wanted me to."

"Uh-huh," Mal hummed, thinking of how solid a cover that gave him. "So why don't you have any friends?"

Gotcha, fucker.

Blondie couldn't gain the reputation as Prince Charming Junior without actually like, being charming.

His shoulders tensed, panicked now that he'd been caught in his lie, but then-

He was embarrassed, of course. "I was homeschooled after my mom died," he explained in a humiliated murmur. "I didn't get to come to school with the other royals until last year."

"You spent an entire year not making friends?" Mal challenged.

"I-" He was hating this. "I tried. I mean- Ben talks to me because he has to, so Audrey does too, and I have my roommate Doug and Jane-" He mustered a smile. "She's my Fairy God-person. But um… that's it. And those guys have to talk to me, so I- I just wanted a- you know, a non-obligation friend."

"So you picked me?" Mal pressed, because that was the issue here.

"Yes?" He didn't seem to get her confusion. "I know. I know. You're really cool and talented and um- don't want friends. But if you did, I would be yours."

"Based on what?" Mal asked. "What possible friend things could we do?"

Chadwick actually took the time to think about this. "We could do art?" he said. "I mean- I'm not good at it, but otherwise I'm stuck doing a bunch of sports stuff because my grandfather doesn't want me to be a sissy or something." Mal could understand his concern, Chadwick had 'sissy' written over him. "So you probably don't like that. Unless you do?" he perked up. "Do you like Tourney? Or fencing?"

"I can use a sword," Mal said. She generally wasn't one to give away advantages, but she was getting tired of not knowing the prince's goal. He was likely probing for her abilities, but if he wanted to fence, she could give him a damn run for his money.

"Really?" Chadwick seemed to think this was cool. "The Swords and Shields arena is open on the weekends. We could spar, sometime? That's a friend-bonding thing."

"You don't seem to know a lot about what friends do," Mal pointed out, playing along with the game.

"I mean-" Chad flushed. "That's because-"

"You don't have any," Mal deduced with a roll of her eyes.

This was getting them nowhere. She needed him to see that she was onto him, that she meant business. That she just wanted to go about her day without being spied on or pitied or feared, and he could either help with that, or fuck off.

It gave her an idea.

"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms. "Take me to your room."

At the very least, she would find her way out of this damn section of the school.

"Pardon?" Chadwick said, breaking out of his depressed pouting to shift into what seemed to be his usual confusion.

"Your room," Mal repeated, making an impatient gesture with her hand. "Let's discuss swords."

"Oh, okay," blondie stuttered. "Um- sure. Okay. It's just-"

He took them in a different direction, down a set of staircases hidden behind a statue Mal never would have found on her own until they were back to walking in the obnoxious Auradon sunshine, the paths stupidly green and sprawling and providing limited protection from ranged attacks. It was like these people didn't even care about stealth.

Boys and girls were housed on separate floors in Auradon due to frivolous segregation rules. Jay and Carlos' room was on the first floor while Mal and Evie had gotten stuck on the second, with the third and fourth floors alternating between boys and girls respectively. Chadwick's room also seemed to be on the first floor, not all that far from Jay and Carlos.

Unlike the room Mal's crewmates inhabited, this one was freakishly neat, to the point where Mal wouldn't have thought anyone lived in it were it not for the pile of books and papers scattered across both of the desks.

Blondie managed a blush when he caught Mal staring. "Sorry," he said, locking the door behind them, and a week ago Mal would have punched him for it, but Evie had picked up that it was just a thing that Auradon people did. Probably because they had the luxury of doors. "It's a bit of a mess. The desks, I mean."

"Your roommate a neat freak?" Mal asked, echoing the words Carlos had picked up from roommate chat forums online.

"Um- no." Chadwick halted in the middle of the room, shifting uneasily. "That would be me, but Doug will let me clean his side too – not that he isn't neat, it's just- I feel better when um- everything's in the right place."

It could be an act, but Mal doubted it. He likely hadn't anticipated Mal wanting to invade his personal space. Either he had a need for control or he was determined not to allow any personal details to be picked up from his dorm room. It looked like one of those magazines Mal and Jay used to stare at together, wondering if that was where rich people lived.

If Lonnie was rich, she didn't show it, her half of her dorm room an explosion of workout clothes and nail polish bottles. Sometimes Mal caught Jane just sort of staring at it from her immaculate side of the room, her left eye twitching.

"We can sit on the couch?" Chadwick continued, wringing his hands in a nice touch of nervous energy. "To discuss sword stuff? I can make us tea-"

"No need," Mal dismissed, reevaluating the room again. "Which one's your bed?"

"Um." Chadwick pointed to the one on the left.

Mal wasted no time dragging him towards it, that light flush darkening into a furious thing as Mal pushed him down onto the stupidly soft furniture. She was still getting used to sleeping on the obnoxiously luxurious thing. She'd taken to camping out on the couch in her room, but Evie was determined to become accustomed to the too-soft mattress. It was her due, after all.

"Sorry," Chadwick said, ducking his head to try and hide his embarrassment. "I know we're just talking-"

"We are discussing swords," Mal interrupted, climbing onto the bed next to him so that her legs were folded under her, ready to shove her up in an attack. "Specifically, your sword."

"Mine?" Chadwick seemed to squeak as Mal shifted closer. "I um- mine's in my locker-"

"Not that sword," Mal said, and then she was cupping that dumb, chiseled jaw and dragging him close, ducking her head so she could kiss those stupidly full lips.

They were as soft as Mal imagined Evie's would be, and Mal reveled in the split second before blondie parted his lips in a sound of surprise that Mal immediately swallowed, using her tongue to lick into the depths of his mouth the way she'd discovered with Jay.

If she had to interrogate this shit, had to deal with his dumb bashful looks and his stutters and blushes, then she was going to fucking get something out of it, see how well he could roll with the punches. Playing someone – according to Evie – required a lot of adaptation. The key was improvisation, and the most vital step to improv was the central idea of 'yes, and'. You always went along with the other person's suggestions, always adapted into what they needed for the situation.

Right now Mal was horny and she wanted to bite blondie's stupid lips and watch him croon in a wet, trembling pile, so if he was really committed, he'd give it to her. If he truly despised her, he wouldn't be able to go through with it. Then again, she could be underestimating his discipline. You never knew with these people. Sometimes the end reward was worth some mental flagellation.

He whimpered, couldn't seem to help it, and distantly Mal registered him raise one of his hands, the thing hovering awkwardly beside them like he didn't know what to do with it.

"Nope," Mal said when she pulled back, trying to ignore his half-lidded stare, cheeks as flushed as the lips that were parted in an open pant, his whole body seeming to tremble. "Hands on the bed."

"Okay," he gasped, doing as he was told. "Do um- do you want- if you want-"

"I'll tell you want I want," Mal hissed, watching him tremble with need. He was either easy, inexperienced, or playing her like a fiddle.

The more they did this, though, the more she was beginning to doubt the last option, though that might be exactly what he wanted.

She looked down between his legs where a familiar bulge was already starting to form, and watched him shift in embarrassment, the blond pressing his thighs together, as though that would hide his predicament.

"Sorry," he said, like that hadn't been the whole damn point. "Sorry, you're um- you're really pretty-" He cut off with a sharp gasp when Mal cupped a hand between his legs, squeezing at that bulge the way she would with Jay.

They did shit like this sometimes – experimented – but they rarely took off their clothes. It was too risky to bare themselves. They'd progressed to shoving a hand into each other's underwear and working things out from there, but now Mal was in Auradon where it was supposedly safe, and with blondie at her mercy…

She nipped at his jaw, licking at clean skin that smelled faintly of trees and continued to squeeze and rub between his legs until he was rutting his hips into her palm, and then she started undoing his pants, glaring at the dumb soft underwear straining around his bulge before she shoved the offending garment out of the way.

It wasn't her first time seeing a dick, of course. There were too many perverts on the Isle for her to escape that vulgarity, but it was her first time seeing one up close.

Blondie's was cleaner than any she'd seen before, his pubic hair a fine blond that was neatly trimmed because of course that would be pretty too. His length was flushed and a little wet, and the top…

"Where's the thing?" Mal asked, wrapping a hand around his length and thumbing the leaking end of it.

"Wh-What?" The prince startled, seeming overwhelmed by the direct contact.

"The thing," Mal pressed, sliding her thumb across the head. "There's usually skin here."

"I-I'm circumcised," Chad gasped. "They um- cut it off when I was a baby."

"Wicked," Mal mused. Of course they'd attack defenseless babies too, Auradon seemed to hate kids in general.

She started reevaluating her opinion on him. Maybe blondie was a sympathizer. Maybe he'd been hurt too. Not as much as the VKs, obviously, but that didn't mean he couldn't understand. He'd lost part of his dick, for cripes' sake.

"Oh," blondie gasped, his head falling back with small whines. "Um. I've um- never done this-"

"Great," Mal said, cutting off his words with a kiss. She started moving her hand slowly, just enough to spread the slickness that was spilling out of the top of him. She had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate it if she used spit as lubricant.

Whatever. She distracted herself by biting at his lips, taking them between her teeth and sucking until he was a trembling mess. She undid the top few buttons of his shirt so she could start biting at his neck, wanting to hear the myriad of sounds that spilled from his kiss-swollen mouth.

"Do you have lube?" Mal asked, deciding to be generous. She'd been teasing the hand between his legs slowly, not enough to be completely satisfying – an attempt to test his limits.

"Um- no," he gasped. "I'm um- I didn't think, you know- that something like this would ha-happen."

"Fine," Mal said, rolling her eyes. She thought about the enchantments in her spell book, about the basic formats for inventing things on the fly, and concentrated. "Highest thrill that he can get, make this boy sopping wet."

"Ah!" Blondie's eyes went wide as he started leaking without restraint, what was once occasional beads now steady streams pouring from him, each new wave likely sending pulses of arousal through his body, assuming Mal cast the spell right. "Ah- it's so- I can't-"

"You will," Mal assured him, using the new slick to act as lubricant, working it into his skin so she could start pumping him in earnest. "Don't worry, it will stop. You'll just be a very wet boy until then."

"I-It feels so good." His hands spasmed against the comforter, gaze going wide. "I um- I think- it's- the back is…"

"The back is what?" Mal asked, pausing her quest to leave a ring of bruises on his neck to look up at him.

"It's um-" His blush seemed to get even more embarrassed. "It's wet too."

"The back of your dick?" Mal asked, not sure what he was getting at.

An embarrassed whine spilled from his throat. "No," he said, shifting uneasily. "Be-Behind me. My um- my-"

It took a second for it to click.

"Your asshole?" Mal asked, genuinely curious, and he nodded bashfully, for all that he was still rutting into her hand.

This she had to see.

She let go of him, urging a mewl from his throat that she ignored, choosing instead to pull off those stupid yellow shoes like they had personally offended her. He was wearing light blue socks under them, like he was trying to be the dumbest most adorable dipshit in all the land, and maybe he was. Maybe that was a kink for him.

Whatever, she wrestled his pants and underwear the rest of the way off so she could shove him back onto his bed, have him sprawled out so that she could really look at him. She pushed one of his knees up to his chest and didn't expect to make it all the way but apparently princey was flexible, and there, just as he had said, was his asshole – twitching and shining with new beads of lubricant that seemed to almost spill out of it.

"Huh," she said, brushing against the twitching ring of muscle before casually sliding a finger into him. According to Jay, that generally took a lot of prep work. He did that sort of shit with Carlos every once in a blue moon.

Chadwick took her with absolutely zero resistance. In fact, she was pretty sure she could shove at least three fingers in there and he wouldn't have any trouble taking them.

"I- I- I don't think, um- I don't-" Blondie gasped as she stroked at his insides, feeling the wet, slick heat. "I um- I'm not supposed to-"

"Does it feel good?" Mal asked, genuinely curious as she slid another finger into him and started scissoring him wide, not that he seemed to need it.

Yeah, she was gonna remember that spell.

"Yes," Chadwick whined. "It does, but- ah!"

She hit something, somewhere, and he writhed, his length bobbing against his stomach, spreading a wet patch against his dumb sweater.

It wasn't so neat now, was it?

"There?" Mal asked, finding the same spot again and thrusting hard.

The prince wailed as much as he ever did, trying to silence the sound behind his perfect teeth as he shook into her attentions.

Oh yeah, he really liked that.

"Th-That feels good," Chadwick rambled. "That- I don't know what it is-"

"Nerves or some shit," Mal said, trying to establish a steady rhythm. What a pretty sight, to fuck a prince of Auradon with her wicked fingers.

"Oh, oh- please, I-" He was becoming less coherent, or at least seemed to be. "Keep- please."

"Yeah, yeah," Mal drawled, letting her other hand settle between his legs again so she could jerk him with a vengeance. "I've got you."

But not the door, which Mal had missed opening until Doug – harmless, dipshit Doug – was standing with the thing shut behind him, staring at the image they presented with a relentless sort of shock.

"Um…" he said, mesmerized enough to move forward when he should have left altogether. "Um."

"Holy shit," Mal snapped, watching how his gaze fell between Chadwick's legs. "You think he's pretty, Douglass?"

"Um," Doug repeated, the words seeming to jog him out of his reverie. And then he froze, considering Mal's question. "…yes."

Chadwick, not quite lost to the throws of his ravishment, seemed to choke on nothing.

Mal considered the information she'd just gained, then knew without question that this was an opportunity to either break Chadwick or clear him as a regular schmuck once and for all.

"Get over here," Mal ordered, jerking her head. "I need help."

"Please," Chadwick groaned, and Mal didn't know if he was talking to Doug or her, didn't know if he was embarrassed or just entirely aroused.

It didn't take much for Doug to abandon his stuff – a rectangular looking suitcase with boxy sides that didn't seem large enough to carry anything of use and a bookbag, both of them getting discarded to the floor and he stumbled across the room, settling down on Chadwick's other side. Mal could already see his interest stirring between his legs.

"Here," Mal said, taking Doug's hand and guiding it between Chadwick's legs, letting him wrap around the slick member. Chadwick let out a low croon the moment she did so, his length seeming to release an enthusiastic gush that left him shuddering.

"He's so… wet," Doug said, but he started pumping his hand appropriately, seemingly mesmerized by Chadwick's responses.

"His blood is Fae-blessed," Mal said, because she'd sensed that the moment she'd met him. "Makes him more susceptible to certain things."

Like sex magic.

"Oh, oh, oh- please," Chadwick moaned, shaking his hips. "I need- I don't know-"

"Do you want to fuck him?" Mal asked, aiming the question at Doug.

"What?" Doug sputtered, but Mal was already reaching a damp hand between his legs, undoing his pants so she could shove a hand into his underwear and coax him to full hardness.

"Fuck him," Mal said. "Do you guys do that here? Butt stuff?"

She only knew about it because of Jay. He'd tried it once with Carlos and never talked about it again, but he'd heard about it from eavesdropping at Gaston's Tavern, and if you wanted to know about sex, there wasn't any better place to go, save for the Tremaine's brothel. They charged for their information, though.

"We um- we do." Mal knew Doug wasn't faking it because Evie had declared him incapable, and Mal trusted Evie. His reactions were genuine, and she was beginning to think Chadwick's reactions to him were genuine as well. "I just- does he want-?"

"Trust me," Mal said, removing her hand from Doug's underwear so she could bury four fingers deep into Chad and listen to him keen. "I can only do so much for him. He wants more."

"Please, Doug," Chadwick whined. "If you- only if you want."

"He wants," Mal said with a roll of her eyes, deftly removing Doug from his clothes so that his full member could tremble in the light.

He was darker than Chad, a bit shorter too, but he was fuller and seemed hopelessly embarrassed for them to actually see his length.

No circumcision, though. His parents must actually like him.

"Don't be a baby," Mal ordered, scooping up a generous slather of Chad's slick and rubbing it all over Doug. "Now…"

She motioned for him to get into position, then reached for the hem of Chad's sweater, dragging the thing off of the blond as he released a small sound. He had a button up underneath it, so she had to deal with that too, until he was at last beautifully naked, sprawled out on his bed with a pretty flush that spilled down his chest.

"You fuck," Mal ordered, putting Doug's hands on Chadwick's thighs so he could guide them up, give him access. "I'll kiss."

"Guys," Chadwick moaned, like he couldn't believe his good fortune.

Well, maybe he couldn't.

Things got hectic, but they seemed to be good. With permission, Doug was a bit of a rambler, going on about how wet and hot and tight Chadwick felt.

"Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow," he'd also say with a complete lack of irony. "Oh wow, Chad, I'm gonna-"

Chadwick- Chad's only response was to let out an indecipherable sound of need while his length bobbed against his stomach.

Mal spent her time sucking bruises and toying with Chad's nipples – pink, pretty things that begged to be pinched and pulled. Mal had always wondered what it'd be like to do this to Jay, though they'd never gotten that far in their exchanges.

Princey, at least, seemed to like it, gasping with every flick, breaking into a full-on groan when she leaned down and started biting at them.

"Fuck," Doug said, mesmerized by the scene. "Fuck."

It didn't take long for Doug to reach his limit, but he was generous enough to jerk Chad to completion so they both finished around the same time, Mal sitting back to watch in wonder as the prince spurted hot beads of slick all over his torso, watched Doug's body tense before he slumped with a moan, his cheeks dusted in a furious shade of red.

When they were finished, Doug flopped down on Chad's other side, curled so he could just stare at the prince.

So.

Mal wasn't sure what kind of information she had gotten there, aside from the knowledge that she was definitely going to spend a lot of time getting Chad to a truly debauched state of want. She deserved that much. She was the daughter of evil, tasked with freeing the children of the Isle. She deserved pretty toys to play with.

"Oh," Chad breathed as Mal pressed a hand against his stomach, smearing it through the wet clumps until the picture he presented was entirely lewd. "Oh, um- ah-"

"Articulate," Mal mused, dropping her hand lower so she could play with his dick. Jay was always super sensitive after he came, and princey didn't seem much better.

"Oh wow, please," he gasped. "I um- I don't know if I can- I-"

"It's okay," Mal soothed – at least as much as she was able too – moving her hand to his side so she could pet it in long strokes. "That was some good swordplay, fellahs."

"Swordplay," Chad echoed, like he was just getting it. "You meant- oh wow."

"Um…" Doug cleared his throat awkwardly. "Are you guys dating?"

"What does that mean?" Mal asked, giving him a bored look so she wouldn't consider panic a viable alternative.

It wasn't, and it would be stupid to consider it as such.

Doug gave her a look that indicated this was an obvious Auradon thing. "It's when you're boyfriend and girlfriend?" he tried. "You know, like romance. It's um, well, you can date for a lot of reasons, for fun or um- something more serious, like deciding if you're suitable for marriage-"

"We're not doing that one," Mal decided. "But the fun one- that's okay."

"It is?" Chad asked, eyes wide with wonder. "You'd be my girlfriend?"

"What does it entail?" Mal asked, directing the question at Doug, suspicious by Chad's enthusiasm.

"Well, generally you're only intimate with your romantic partner," Doug said, gesturing to Chad's debauched form. "So…"

"So I'd be dating you too?" Mal asked, considering the prospects of this. Doug seemed smart. Useful.

He seemed eager for Chad, at the very least.

"Um." Doug flushed. "I don't think I'm explaining this right."

"Do you or do you not want to fuck Chad again?" Mal asked, getting annoyed. "It's a straight forward question."

"But it's not just that," Doug said. "Dating- it's like a partnership. You're supposed to be there for the other person for stuff aside from sex."

"So you don't want to partner with Chad?" Mal asked, being purposefully vague.

Doug's flush confirmed his feelings on the matter. "It's um- more like he wouldn't want to-"

"Hey," Chad interrupted, grabbing Doug's collar. "I'd want to."

And then he kissed him, deep and hungry, just like Mal had on him. So either he was making himself appealing to Mal by mimicking her, or he hadn't kissed anyone else and that was the only thing he knew how to do now.

She was beginning to lean towards the second option.

"Great," Mal said when they pulled apart. Then she snagged Doug's collar with a lazy hand and pulled him into a kiss, one he audibly gasped into, giving her access to his mouth to thoroughly rock his world for at least five seconds. "Okay," she said when they pulled apart. "We're all dating now. The end."

"Cool," Chad said, his grin sort of dopey and chest heaving. "This is um- going to sound stupid, but uh- what's your name?"

Mal froze, stared him deep in the eye while Doug startled, and came to her final conclusion.

No self-respecting liar would come across as that stupid. It was too obvious a tell, and most of them were too prideful to consider losing track of such details.

It was official, this guy was an idiot.

But he was her idiot now, so…

"It's Mal," she said, tossing her curls. "Now buckle up for round two, Chaddie, and you-" She said, pointing to Doug. "Take notes."

"Mal," Chad gasped as she murmured a familiar chant into his skin, and then he was a leaking mess all over again.

So. That was one way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

-:-:-

Endnotes:

I update once a week, generally on Sundays, but because things have been so crazy lately, I decided to make an effort to update twice a week. So there will be one update on Sunday and one update on Wednesday/Thursday for now :D

Story notes:

Let's go ahead and assume roommate chat forums are a thing in Auradon.

Sardinia is my name for Chad's kingdom, which is canonically known as 'Cinderellasburg' and just- so dumb.

Until next time :)