Neither one of them knew how or why they had ended up on the floor, and neither one of them particularly thought it important. They were focused on other things. It was moments like these that made Sting grateful for the house they shared together – no apartment neighbors to deal with, nice and secluded on the outskirts of town, away from the guild – because the two of them were making an awful lot of noise.

"Fuck!" Sting cried out, his head jerking towards the ceiling as Rogue claimed a fistful of his hair and yanked.

"You sure are vocal today," Rogue panted, nipping and sucking on his partner's shoulder blade as he pounded him senseless. They had been going for hours; both of the dragon slayers were bruised and bleeding, meeting their edge and tumbling over it together time and time again. This time Rogue was crouched above his partner, Sting's knees digging into the carpet relentlessly. A hand snaked around his waist and found his throbbing member, wrapping around it and pumping with vigor. At this touch Sting's legs began to tremble. "Shit!" he slurred, practically on the verge of drooling. "Shit, Rogue! I-I'm gonna-"

"No."

"Please, sir?"

"No. Not until I say you can." Sting whined helplessly, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood in order to sway his mind into not thinking about how good Rogue felt inside of him, how hot and pleasing his touch was. It wasn't long before he felt himself being pushed forcefully against the ground. "On your side." Sting obeyed, rolling onto his right side and hiking his knees up, which were now raw and bleeding, as well. He positioned his right arm under his head just as he felt himself being filled again, and a fluttering gasp left his lips as they parted. Rogue continued his onslaught, his left hand gripping Sting's thigh as he drove into him wildly.

The noises that came from Sting's mouth was like music to his ears. He didn't think he would ever get tired of listening to the sounds his partner made when he was in complete, carnal bliss. Though they were both slack jawed and panting, and Rogue was sure his face was just as red as Sting's was, he marveled at how fucking perfect Sting looked when he was on the verge of coming. His eyes were shut tight, his brows furrowed intensely and his nostrils flaring without warning. It was beautiful. Rogue's hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering, and he soon found himself pressing as deep as he could into his partner, spilling his seed for the umpteenth time that night. Pulling out slowly, he turned Sting onto his back. "Rogue," Sting choked, a desperate plea for release in his eyes.

"Alright." Rogue wrapped both hands around Sting's still throbbing member and massaged up and down, pumping slow at first and gradually picking up more speed. Sting's eyes closed again, his head thrown back against the floor. "Come for me." There it was again, those sounds that were extacy in his ears. Sting moaned wantonly, thrusting his hips uncontrollably as he quickly reached the edge and tumbled over it.

"Thank you, thank you, sir!" He cried as his body collapsed, all muscles loosening and spent. Instead of lying down with him, Rogue snaked one arm under Sting's knees, the other around the back of his neck. He picked him off the floor and carried him, albeit labored, to the bed where Sting was placed gently among the bedsheets. As much as he wanted to crawl into bed with him, he knew there was no way he would be able to rest peacefully knowing that the both of them were sticky with fluids. He made his way to the bathroom where he wiped himself down, returning with a towel to do the same to Sting, who was already falling asleep. "C'meer," he said, lifting his arms and reaching for his boyfriend. Rogue smiled, leaning into his touch and placing a small kiss on his forehead. "Let me put this in the hamper and I'll come join you." Sting pouted, wrapping an arm around his partner's neck. "Sleep. Laundry can wait."

Rogue chuckled, discarding the towel on the floor. "Alright, fine." He rolled into their bed and was greeted with Sting nuzzling into his neck and promptly falling asleep. Exhaustion finally taking it's toll, Rogue followed suit the moment he closed his eyes.

Bonus:

When Sting opened his eyes he decided that they were probably the only thing on his body that did not ache. For a moment he just stared at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat throb painfully through every bite and claw mark. He knew the yearly hormonal changes affected everyone differently and that Rogue became possessive and dominant while Sting usually found himself longing to be taken – the total opposite of the boys normally – but that was before they had started having sex, before they realized what they meant to each other. Is this gonna happen every year? He thought to himself, ableit smiling. He attempted to turn his head to look over at his still sleeping partner, but to no avail. He found he was unable to move his neck at all without his swollen skin crying out in protest. He opted instead to shifting his entire body sideways, rolling onto his left shoulder stiffly.

Rogue was unconscious and snoring. His legs were sprawled across the bedsheets, his arms above his head; disheveled black hair spread across his face and pillow with his mouth hanging open. A giggle bubbled up inside Sting as he gazed lovingly at his partner. He was usually so quiet and proper, yet here he was snoring and drooling; everything about him was in disarray. Considering the workout they had both had the night before, Sting didn't blame him for it in the slightest. "Rogue" he said. It took a couple more tries to wake the sleeping dragon, but when Rogue finally opened his eyes a lazy smile spread across his face.

"G'morning." He said, his voice heavy with sleep. His arms came down and his hands brushed the hair away from his face before a tired yawn slipped past his jaw. He rolled onto his right side and nuzzled his head close to Sting's, their noses touching. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

Rogue chuckled, pulling back to admire the artwork dancing across the white dragon's skin. Looking at him now, he realized, those bruises did look pretty painful. The shadow dragon was sure there were some areas that were probably still bleeding.

"I didn't mean to get so carried away, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. That was the hottest fucking thing that's been done to me in my entire life." Sting said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You should do that more often. But we should probably buy a first aid kit or something." The two giggled; who knew essentially beating the shit out of each other could be so much fun? "Legit though I can't move very well, everything hurts." Rogue smiled and leaned in to gently kiss his partner first on the nose, then on the lips. It seemed that he was back to his happy bubbling self, for now. "Alright, I'll make breakfast. You stay here and recuperate. I'll bring it in here when it's done and we can eat in bed."

"You're the best boyfriend I've ever had."

"I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had, you dunce." Rogue rolled onto his other side and sat up, planting his feet on the carpet below him. He reached for the closest article of clothing – Sting's sweatpants that had been discarded and forgotten on the ground – and put it on before making his way to the door. "You need anything?"

"A good look at that ass." Rolling his eyes, Rogue turned to look at his winking boyfriend who had rolled onto his back and was now completely sprawled out across the bed.

"I meant like do you want a glass of water or something."

"Nah, I'm okay."

When he returned, two plates of waffles with scrambled eggs in his hands, he found Sting sitting up in bed, doing his best to rub the stiffness from his shoulders. He gazed at the marks he had left on his partner, a sudden feeling of possessiveness pooled in his stomach along with another feeling.

"Uh oh. I know that look. Are you going to punish me again, sir?" Sting said, that sly grin on his face that drove Rogue up a wall.

"I just might if you don't curb that fucking attitude, mister."