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Quincy doesn’t care much for troublesome things. Serpents, unfortunately, are troublesome things.
It’s something that he thought would be done and over with now that it has been ages since the last serpent that worked alongside Huey. As the generations passed, their serpentine traits would become less and less. Yakumo, when Quincy had first seen him, looked to be that way even if the serpent inside of him reared its head when he got too angry or emotional.
And because Quincy thought it was something that would be done and over with that he finds himself in a similar situation all those years ago with the last person to have had Yakumo’s gemstone. A serpent, gravid with eggs, and the Grand Sorcerer out doing an errand. Well, back then, in Huey’s case it was less running an errand and more disinterest. The first time it happened, there was some, but as soon as it became a more common thing then Huey simply…ignored it.
Which left Quincy to deal with it, because Quincy knew “foresty things” and sometimes serpents can be found in the forest. Huey’s words, not his.
So now he has Yakumo spread across his lap, abdomen swollen with unfertilized eggs, shaking and trembling and clinging to his broad chest while his cheeks are painted a rather alarming shade of red.
Troublesome.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” Yakumo whispers, breath hitching as the eggs shift inside of him.
“…it’s fine.”
Because Yakumo is on the cusp of pain and pleasure, body unsure of what to do. Perhaps it happened to him in the past, Quincy thinks as he pulls down Yakumo’s pants. But due to his essence not being very regulated, perhaps the eggs were much smaller or didn’t even form properly at all. Yakumo whines as Quincy’s callused thumb presses into his swollen slit.
Ah.
It's bad.
The lips of Yakumo’s slit are puffy and agape, the head of his cock caught against the rounded curve of the egg trying to make its way out. Yakumo squirms, nails digging into Quincy’s chest to the point that he can feel the slightest twinge of pain. Quincy observes the way Yakumo’s slit flexes, how Yakumo tries to arch his body in a way that would help him pass the egg easier.
“Please…please help,” Yakumo begs. Quincy hasn’t heard that in a while, either. He can’t deny that the flushed look on Yakumo’s face, eyes dewy with unshed tears, makes him a little aroused. It had been the same back then.
“Don’t move too much,” Quincy orders, and two of his thick fingers press into Yakumo’s slit.
Yakumo wails.
Loudly.
Quincy is now glad that Eiden and a majority of the others are out of the manse. If they had heard the noise Yakumo just made they would have thought the young man dying. Yakumo is trembling violently, nails now having torn the fabric of Quincy’s shirt and drawing thin lines of red across his chest. Quincy pulls his fingers out, instead bringing his palm up to gently press on the large swell of Yakumo’s abdomen to try and encourage some movement.
Yakumo hiccups, breath coming in and out in harsh, rapid pants and sweat forming on his brow. This isn’t good. Quincy needs to remind himself again that even if Yakumo is descended from the same serpent, they are far too different. Yakumo does not know that he needs to relax, that he needs to let Quincy do a majority of the work.
He's too wound up, too wide eyed and afraid.
“Please,” Yakumo begs again. “I…I…mmmgh”
Yakumo buries his head into Quincy’s chest, curling against him.
“Don’t move,” Quincy repeats. Yakumo only nods his head. With a new plan in mind, Quincy instead gently pinches the head of Yakumo’s cock peeking out. Yakumo jolts, legs squeezing together and whines once more as it jostles the egg trying to come out. Quincy rubs the nub of Yakumo’s cock, keeping him distracted as he moves him into an easier position to work with.
Yakumo is panting, moaning, begging, arm now slung over his eyes now that Quincy has him laid out on the towels beneath them and he has nowhere to hide his face. Quincy gets between Yakumo’s spread legs, continuing to stimulate his cock, and then drags his fingers down to trace the obscene stretch of Yakumo’s slit.
Quincy looks up, “Still okay?”
Yakumo weakly nods his head.
That’s all Quincy needs. He leans forward, keeping his thumb pressed against the stuck head of Yakumo’s weeping dick, and drags his tongue along one side of Yakumo’s puffy slit. The result is instantaneous—Yakumo arches with a pitiful cry, muscles contracting as orgasm hits him hard. The egg that had been blocking his slit comes tumbling out, coated in slick, and Yakumo’s slit is left gaping. Quincy is quick to move it out of the way. Yakumo’s cock also comes sliding free now that an egg is no longer pushing hard against it and copious amounts of cum spurts out onto Yakumo’s swollen belly.
Some of it even lands on Quincy’s face, which he casually licks off.
“Quincy…Quincy…that’s,” Yakumo sounds too flustered to continue.
Quincy ignores that in favor of pressing his fingers into Yakumo. “How many?” he asks instead.
“W-what?”
“How many do you usually lay?”
Even through the red painting his face, through the stuttering breaths and the pleasure-pain, Yakumo manages to answer. “S-six,” he mumbles.
Huh.
More than Quincy expected.
“Always this big?” Quincy asks, just to make sure his earlier conclusion was correct.
“No…small…they were usually small…but ever since I’ve been with Eiden they’ve steadily gotten bigger.”
So it was a matter of essence regulation now letting Yakumo’s body produce them to the proper size.
Incredibly troublesome.
“Not stretched out enough then.”
Quincy gets up on his knees to undo his own pants, pushing them down to let his half-hard dick pop free. Yakumo stares, wide-eyed and mouth slightly open. It’s not hard for Quincy to get fully hard as he strokes himself. Yakumo is by no means unattractive, soft and gentle and earnest.
“Big…too big,” Yakumo whispers.
Quincy brings a hand up to tap at Yakumo’s dick. A silent way to say that Yakumo really shouldn’t be talking about big when his own is nothing to sneeze at (even if Quincy is still bigger by a good bit).
“Needs to be,” Quincy says as he places a firm hand on Yakumo’s hip. “Have to fuck you to make it easier.”
He hears the sharp intake of breath Yakumo takes, the pitiful moan that follows. Yakumo is trembling violently under his hold, and when Quincy looks up again he sees that Yakumo has once again found release. His spend drips down his swollen abdomen, into the crease of his thigh, and Quincy only raises an eyebrow.
Too into the thought, huh?
It works to his advantage. He scoops some of it up to coat his dick with it, putting two fingers inside of Yakumo’s weeping slit to collect a bit more slick there as well. Once properly lubricated, Quincy presses the head of his dick against Yakumo.
“Remember, don’t move.”
“I—”
Quincy pushes in.
Yakumo’s head hits the floor with a hard thud, hands twisting into the towels beneath and hips arching. Quincy grunts, skin starting to feel hot and sticky, as Yakumo’s walls clamp down hard on his cock. Yakumo holds onto him tight, barely letting him move.
“R-Relax,” Quincy grunts out.
“Can’t—I can’t—hah…hnngh too big…too…big,” Yakumo whines. Quincy tries rolling his hips, hand stroking Yakumo’s cock, hoping the pleasure will make him relax some.
Yakumo only clenches down harder in response.
This is getting them nowhere, Quincy thinks, even as he tries to move his hips in a gentle roll. Yakumo makes a garbled noise, hands latching on to Quincy’s shoulders.
“Ugh…mmph…,” Yakumo’s biting down hard on his lip, brows furrowed, and Quincy tries to remember what he did back then the first time he had to do this.
Ah.
Yakumo’s eyes widen as Quincy moves to cover him completely, widening even more when Quincy presses chapped lips against his.
It’s enough.
Yakumo’s walls relax enough that Quincy now has room to properly move. He slowly fucks into Yakumo, keeps a steady movement that gently eases his tight slit wider. Much better than being forced to stretch open from a larger than usual egg—at least Quincy thinks that. Each stroke of his dick against Yakumo’s velvety walls help ease him open, punch little “ahs” out of him that settle low in Quincy’s belly as molten arousal. Yakumo continues to cling tight to his shoulders, using him as leverage to meet each of his thrusts.
Quincy’s thrusts keep going deeper, deeper, until he feels the head of his dick press against something hard. Yakumo keens when he feels it, each egg in him jostling.
“No, no, no,” Yakumo repeats, squeezing down on Quincy’s cock like a vice.
Quincy winces, his dick throbbing as Yakumo keeps a tight hold on it.
“Need to let it out, Yakumo,” Quincy grunts.
Yakumo furiously shakes his head.
Quincy bucks his hips, pressing against the egg again. Yakumo sobs at that, desperately pressing his lips against Quincy’s as he comes once more. It’s a veritable fountain of slick and cum, Yakumo’s walls pulsing and squeezing around Quincy’s cock until he’s close to coming as well. It’s with great effort that he finally manages to pull himself out, watching as Yakumo’s slit stays open as the second egg finally starts making its way out.
It hits the towels with a dull thud, Quincy quick to take it and put it to the side like the other one. Yakumo is full on crying, cheeks stained with tears and a ruddy red color. Snot drips from his nose and drool from the corner of his mouth—it looks awful. Quincy still lets Yakumo cling to him, gently rubs at his abdomen to coax the third egg into position and out.
Another easy pass, Yakumo babbling about how “it’s not stopping” as the fourth one is quick to follow. The fifth one takes a bit of effort, but it’s the final one that has Yakumo convulsing. His stomach is much flatter now save for the bump from the last egg. No matter how hard he contracts his muscles, trying to force it out, it stubbornly stays stuck.
“No…no please,” Yakumo’s still clinging tightly to Quincy, begging.
Quincy nods.
He presses three fingers into Yakumo’s slit, knuckle deep, feeling around to see where the egg might be stuck at. Further back, and he feels it stuck in Yakumo’s oviduct. With how tense Yakumo is from the desperation and anxiety of the egg still stuck there, his muscles aren’t relaxing enough to let the egg pass.
Quincy places the last three eggs in a pile with the other two, taking his place back between Yakumo’s legs. He places his hands on Yakumo’s knees, keeping his thighs spread, and thrusts back into his gaping slit.
“Quincy! Quincy—ah-ah-haahh…gggh!”
Yakumo’s nails draw bloody lines down his shoulder blades as Quincy sets a hard pace. Hard enough to be pleasurable, but not so hard that he does something that might break the egg inside of Yakumo. Yakumo is coughing and spluttering, gagging on his own spit and tears. Quincy grips his chin with his fingers, drags him in for a kiss to keep him quiet and distracted. When Quincy lets go of Yakumo’s other knee, the serpent’s legs wrap tight around his waist.
Yakumo grunts and moans into their kiss, cock slapping against his belly and his walls squeezing down hard on Quincy. Quincy can feel the sweat dripping down his face, muscles flexing and tensing as he continues to thrust, almost brutally, into Yakumo.
Another thrust has Yakumo come undone, nonsensical babbling falling from his lips as orgasm takes him once more. Cum drools from the tip of Yakumo’s cock, his slit squeezing Quincy and trying to milk his dick for everything he has. Quincy holds on, grits his teeth to stave off orgasm, and tries to pull out.
Yakumo’s feet press against the small of Quincy’s back, keeping him inside.
“A-again,” Yakumo demands.
So troublesome.
Quincy lets Yakumo know that by burying himself almost balls deep, only stopped by the shell of the final egg still caught in Yakumo’s oviduct. Yakumo hisses, long tongue coming out to lap at Quincy’s jaw, chasing the sweat that dripped along the curve.
Still, Quincy had been close the entire time, having pulled out the first time before he came so the eggs could come out. This time, this time, Yakumo keeps him inside, massages his dick with his plush walls, the lips of his slit squeezing the base of Quincy’s dick. Quincy gave out a guttural groan, finally finding his release. Something akin to a purr escapes from Yakumo’s throat as he, too, finds his release. Quincy’s cum mixed with Yakumo’s slick spills out from Yakumo’s slit.
Quincy is finally allowed to pull out, Yakumo’s legs going slack with the rest of his body. Yakumo gives off a final, desperate whine, the last egg finally peeking out of his abused slit before plopping inelegantly on the towel.
Done.
They’re finally done.
Quincy doesn’t say much, wordlessly picking up the last egg to put with the rest. They’re all dud eggs, so Quincy will have to ask Yakumo what to do with them.
He looks over when he feels a tug on his sleeve.
Yakumo looks…more alert. Still looks well-fucked, but more alert and in less pain.
“Thank…thank you again, Quincy,” Yakumo says. “May I…may I ask for your help when this happens again?”
Quincy is surprised it’s him Yakumo would come to for next time instead of Eiden. He’s sure that, unlike Huey, the man would be all for helping Yakumo with his eggs.
Serpents really are troublesome.
“Sure.”
But Quincy never did say that he was bothered by it.