Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wanderer was angry.

Durin could tell just from the expression on his face— It is rumpled and furrowed and distressed. Frowning, Durin reconsiders his decision to bring Hat Guy to The Flagship. He had initially assumed that, since this was a tavern, Wanderer would be able to relax after the Dottore-Columbina incident.

That idea was quickly proven very, very wrong.

Biting his lip, Durin tried studying Wanderer’s face more closely to understand what other emotions the other man was feeling, aside from ‘anger.’

…He quickly gave up, however. Wanderer had a formidable expression that Durin simply could not penetrate.

So, Durin decided it was better to simply just ask. Communication is necessary in these situations, right?

“...Hat Guy,” Durin said cautiously. Wanderer looked up, eyes already narrowed.

“Yes?” He replied tersely.

“How are you feeling?” Durin settles on asking. It’s an innocent question, childish in its wondrous quality. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, especially after everything we’ve gone through.”

His hand stretches over the table they sit at, offering it for Wanderer to hold. It doesn’t matter if he’s ignored for a little while; Hat Guy always softens eventually, even if just by a little bit. Wanderer gnashes his teeth for a moment before reluctantly taking Durin’s hand.

“I feel irritated,” Wanderer starts slowly, each word fraught with tension, “I knew Dottore the best out of everyone and yet… And yet I was still unable to stop that bastard. All that time we spent at the Festival— Dottore made it all meaningless.”

Durin stares at their intertwined hands across the table. He squeezes, once, thinking for a moment. “Meaningless?” He asks quietly, “How so?”

Wanderer clenches his jaw. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Hat Guy softens, just barely, tone less sharp now, “All time I spend with you is… Memorable. I just meant for Columbina. All that happiness…” His brow furrows, and his hands clench, mouth set in an angry, thin line.

Nodding slowly, Durin tries to follow Wanderer’s train of thought. “You mean to say that you feel sorry for Columbina, then,” Durin surmised, “You are upset by her disappearance.”

Hat Guy bristles; no surprise there. He’s been rather prickly as of late. “What are you talking about? Shut up.” He grumbles, looking away, but Durin notes with some amusement that he hasn’t pulled away from their joined hands.

“Hmm, no, I don’t believe I can,” Durin responds, cracking a grin. Wanderer rolls his eyes. “After all, Hat Guy, it’s basically my duty to know you best.”

A scoff. “And who told you that?”

Durin’s grin widens. “Myself. Ever since you became my first friend.”

Said friend responds with a resigned exhale. “You’ve signed yourself up for a tough job, you know that, right?”

Gloved fingers played with bare ones. “I know,” Durin hums, “That’s why we’ve got a whole lifetime ahead of us, right? So I can be the bestest friend you’ll ever have.” His smiles softens, turning fonder.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Wanderer’s lips twitch. “I’ve got high standards,” He argues, but it’s nothing and they both know it.

Durin leans forward, a challenge in his eyes, tension melting away. If he can distract Hat Guy, if even only for a moment, then this will be enough. “Then I will work hard,” The answer escapes his lips like a breath; easy to say, and impossible to take back.

But he finds himself unbothered by his rash promise, anyway.

Shivers run down Durin’s spine when Wanderer lets out a low, low laugh. “You remind me of someone,” He says, amused, “A certain busy bee.”

Jealousy flares to life, briefly. Durin’s jaw suddenly clenches; human he may be, but the draconic instincts in him remain unchanged and untamed. He chews the inside of his cheek, not trusting himself to speak. Silence settles over them for a few moments, stiff and awkward.

It doesn’t take long for Wanderer to realize. The moment he smirks, Durin realizes he is well and truly doomed.

“Oh?” The teasing lilt in Wanderer’s voice makes Durin wince, “Durin, are you perhaps jealous of this ‘busy bee’? You should know that your best friend can have other friends too.”

What I feel for you is beyond the label of ‘best friend.’

The thought is so sudden it startles himself, and Durin jerks back, eyes wide. Hat Guy pauses, then raises an eyebrow. “Huh, did that truly surprise you?” Wanderer asks— The teasing is still there, but there’s a hint of genuine curiosity and a smaller portion of showed concern.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Durin eventually shakes his head. “No,” He answered, honest against his better judgement, “I just thought of something that startled me.”

A curious look is thrown his way, but thankfully, Hat Guy doesn’t press. Thank the Archons. Durin doesn’t know if he could handle being quizzed about this any further. He takes another breath before continuing. “Anyways,” Durin tries to open up the topic again, “Who’s that busy bee, anyway?”

Wanderer looks mildly surprised before his expression returns to normal. “Oh, you’ve never really met him, huh?” He said, thoughtfully, “Well, all the better. He was a rather annoying, buzzing bee, anyway. I prefer… Your company.”

Those last few words came out haltingly. It was painfully obvious that Hat Guy was struggling to say those words. But those same words made Durin immensely happy. His grin brightened, and he leaned forward, eyes sparkling faintly. “Really? Do you like me that much, Hat Guy?”

Hat Guy flushed an angry red. “Don’t… Don’t say that,” He grumbled, “That’s ridiculous. You’re just more tolerable than others. Buer said I should surround myself in people who make me feel like you do—” He stops, abruptly. Durin’s grin only turns happier.

“Do you truly feel that way?” His heart is so full of joy, he can feel the crystalline heart on his chest pulsating happily. “I feel delighted, Hat Guy.”

“I misspoke,” He gritted out, then sighs, utterly resigned to his fate. “Archons above, I need a drink.”

Despite Durin’s considerable protest against alcohol, he was so happy that, in that moment, he didn’t particularly care. He raised his hand and waves it around like an especially energetic flag, smalls drops of ‘Mini Durin’ shining through the cracks of his newly solemn exterior. 

Legs kicking like a child, Durin half-heartedly listens to Hat Guy listing out his order; probably something Sumerian, if he had to guess. Not that he cared. He was much too busy studying the other man’s face.

After all, he’d always been captivated by Hat Guy’s beauty. Attraction and interest had been things that were just introduced to him, but even he could acknowledge that Hat Guy’s beauty was completely unmatched. Durin truly agreed with the notes on anonymous boards saying Wanderer was ‘the fairest one had ever seen,’ though he had argued against the second part that said his beauty was spoiled by Wanderer’s rotten attitude.

He’d even included an angry, anonymous note: “Hat Guy’s not that bad! You just need to understand subtext; though I suppose literacy has gone down in recent years.”

…That note was probably the most insulting thing he’s said to anyone in this form. He’s quite proud of himself; he’s such a good best friend!

Wanderer caught his gaze after finishing his order. “What?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, but it’s not unkind.

Durin doesn’t hesitate; why would he be embarrassed about appreciating someone’s beauty? “You’re so pretty, Hat Guy,” He hums, “The prettiest ever.”

Hat Guy’s jaw falls open. “Wha— Durin! Why would you say something like that?” He hisses, looking around, much to Durin’s confusion.

“Because you are pretty.” Durin states. It’s not even a question. Wanderer simply grows more agitated, clearly looking for his drink.

“Don’t say it in public,” Hat Guy mutters, grabbing his drink from the bartender’s hands and takes a long, deep draft from the liquid. “It’s indecent.”

Durin’s head tilts to the side like a curious, innocent puppy. “Indecent how?” He questions, because of course he must know. “Surely it is not as awful as publicly disrobing?”

“Some people don’t want to hear words like that,” Wanderer explains, tiredly, completely ignoring the second question.

Durin hums thoughtfully. “Those people must be stupid. It’s just a compliment.”

Hat Guy sighs like each word exchanged in this conversation is taking years off his life span. “To those people, Durin,” He says slowly, “Such words sound like flirting.”

Durin blinks. Once. Then twice. “Oh.”

An eye roll is thrown his way, but he doesn’t really care. “Yes, oh,” Wanderer deadpans dryly, “I thought you were learning how to be human.”

In response, Durin chuckles softly. “Hmm, yes, and here I thought I was getting the hang of it. It seems I have farther to go, indeed.” He nudges the drink, slightly. “Anyways, you should finish your drink. I’m itching to get out into the Nod-Krai air and breath something other than alcohol.”

Wanderer begrudgingly obeys, taking a swig of his drink in long gulps. He slams the glass down, and his cheeks are flushed now, eyes glazed. Durin takes a moment to study him again. He must have ordered a particularly strong drink, Durin figures, Judging how one large glass can make him look a bit tipsy, and how the bartender looked both surprised and concerned.

The dragon stands, offering out his arm like an olive branch. “Let’s leave,” He smiles, trying to hide his complete fascination with Wanderer’s face; how his lips part, soft and full, how his cheeks are dusted with pink like someone lovingly applied it on—

How he looks like the perfect muse: Someone to be painted, over and over again. Someone to be admired, forever and ever.

When Hat Guy reluctantly looped his arm through Durin’s, he smiled. The prettiest ever, indeed. “Let’s go back to our residence,” Durin suggests.

Hat Guy shakes his head. “You said you wanted to go get some air. Let’s walk for a moment.” His fingers tighten their hold on Durin’s elbow, and he has no choice but to agree.

“Mm, did I? I think I’m learning what it feels like to be forgetful.” He grins, and Wanderer huffs, rolling his eyes again. “But you’re right. Let’s get going, Hat Guy.”

After a small struggle over who will pay for the drink, the bartender finally receives the money and they leave. Durin breaths a sigh of relief, briefly letting go of Wanderer and stretching: His tail stands upright, and his wings spread slightly, too.

Wanderer crosses his arms, studying him closely as he leans against a wall. The feeling of his eyes on him makes Durin shiver more than the frigid Nod-Krai wind ever could. His head turns to face Hat Guy, hands adjusting his cufflinks. “What are you thinking about, huh?”

Hat Guy makes a non-commital noise, pushing himself off. “Just thought of how it would feel to touch your tail, among other things,” He shrugs. 

Durin smiles to himself. The slight, drunken glaze in Wanderer’s eyes has mostly faded, probably due to the fact that Hat Guy was a puppet. The effects still seem to linger, considering how honest the other man is being right now.

“You can try,” Durin instantly offers, tail flicking in Wanderer’s direction, “Touch me.”

“Don’t word it like that,” Wanderer says, suddenly, eyes narrowing, “You’re making it weird. And I’m not touching you like that in public.”

He blinks in response. “Hat Guy, I think we can call you someone with a dirty mind, at this point,” Durin says, half sighing, half laughing. “Seriously, you think all I say is scandalous. Or perhaps you just hate me that much to go as far as to reject touching me?”

It’s bait, but Hat Guy rises to it anyway. “Of course not,” He responds, “I said I would not touch you in public. I never said anything about touching you privately.”

This time, it’s Durin’s turn to blush. “Oh, then… We should quicken the pace of our walk, if we are to sate your curiosity,” Durin says, weakly, hating how pathetic he sounds. “So, ah. Shall we?”

Wanderer simply smiles, elusive and mysterious. “If that is want you want,” He aquiesces, looping their arms back together. “Let’s go. For real this time.”

Sounds of boots hitting lightly against cold metal just barely echo in Durin’s ears as they walk. He notices everything from how jumpy he is right now, but he’s mostly focused on Hat Guy. Durin drinks in the way Hat Guy’s eyes trail over Nasha Town almost impassively; it’s sweeter and lovelier than any wine Mondstadt could offer.

Durin’s hand sweat in his gloves, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying anything foolish.

It’s attraction, he knows— He’s learned enough to figure that out. The problem is that he has no idea what to do with this information. Durin’s fingers press against the crystal heart on his chest, thumb brushing against it almost lovingly as he thinks idly. It was like an equation; the information you needed was all there, but the line you drew to connect the dots was unfinished.

Unbearably frustrating, in other words. He was this close to ripping his hair out.

He was so lost in thought he’s only shaken out of his head when Wanderer grabs him arm. “You said we’re going for a walk, but you’re just standing there,” He says, lips quirking upwards, “Are you trying to slack off?”

Durin startles, then attempts to brush it off with a nervous laugh. “Huh, guess I’m more tired than I thought,” He says, scratching his cheek, “Sorry. I think we might have to go back earlier than expected…”

Hat Guy looks at him with a knowing glint in his eye. “Is that so?” The puppet muses, “I can’t let my ‘best friend’ feel fatigued, can I? That’s what the Traveller would say. So hurry up and let’s get back to our room, idiot.”

His grip tightens, and he’s dragging Durin away, now. Durin can’t stop the smile the blooms across his face. “Okay,” He readily agrees, “Take us back, Hat Guy.”

The doors slide open, and Durin walks through, shoulders already relaxing. “Albedo isn’t here yet,” He tells Wanderer, already taking off his shoes, “Something about business with the Traveller. I’m not quite sure, but I just wanted to tell you.”

Hat Guy just nods in response, eyes trailing something Durin can’t pinpoint yet. “...Thanks.”

Durin remembers his tail flicking lazily, once, before light fingers brush against the sensitive appendage.

A full body shudder spasms through his form, and he gasps, leaning onto a nearby table for support. “H—Hat Guy…!” He hates the way his voice turned into something like a whimper, hates the way sparks of pleasure zip up his spine, “Why would you…?!”

Hat Guy just laughs quietly. “It’s very simple,” He calmly says, and Durin has gooseflesh rise at Wanderer’s low tone, “I’m touching my best friend because he allowed me to ‘sate my curiosity’ about his body.” His hand brushes against one of the scales, soft and gentle at the same time, and Durin’s face turns red.

“I-I didn’t realize,” Durin shivered, “That my tail was so sensitive.”

Wanderer smiles. “Curious, right? I truly feel like a scholar of the Akademiya, studying such interesting anatomy.”

Durin groaned. “Don’t bring academics in this… The mood…”

“Oh?” Wanderer sounds way too amused for Durin’s comfort. “What mood, Durin?”

Just to spite Wanderer, Durin held his tongue. An act of rebellion that lasted about three seconds before Hat Guy tugged at his tail and sent Durin babbling.

“Y–You know—” Durin stuttered, gasping again when Wanderer gave another caress to keep him talking, “Aunt A—Alice mentioned it before!” He blurted, then slapped his hands over his mouth.

Wanderer’s hands stilled for a moment, before his fingers started circling around the purple flesh surrounding Durin’s tail. “Mhm. And what did she say, Durin?” He still sounded like he was getting immense entertainment from this.

Durin lets out a soft ‘Haah’ before responding. “Like… When two people are feeling this type of tension… Aunt Alice said there’s a certain mood to go along with it. She used herself and her h-husband as an examp— Hat Guy!”

The sudden interruption came from Wanderer wrapping his hand around the base of his tail before dragging it all the way down to the tip. “What?” Hat Guy hummed, completely unbothered, which just pissed Durin off more, “Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Durin hesitates for a brief moment before reluctantly continuing on. “L-Like I was saying…” He mumbled, “Alice used herself and her husband as an example… They always have the tension and mood together. She even said ‘That tension was so lovely; it was kind enough to give us Klee!’” Durin tried pitching up his voice to try and sound like Alice, but all he achieved was his cheeks burning from embarrassment.

A noise of understanding sounded from Wanderer’s throat. “And what did she call this tension, Durin?” Oh, he was definitely smirking.

That same old shaky exhale of resignment left his mouth before Durin choked out the words, “...Sexual tension.”

Wanderer didn’t respond. Durin cast a look over his shoulder just to check what was going on, and was met with a dark look in the other man’s eyes that send a surge of anticipation through him. “Something… Something wrong?” Durin managed to croak out.

The other man caught himself then; relaxing his furrowed brow before his thumb brushed the top of the base; the part of the tail directly below Durin’s vision. “I want to try something,” He replied, “Let me touch your horns.”

Out of all the things he might’ve said, Durin hadn’t expected this. “What?”

“You want to keep the mood in tact, didn’t you?” Wanderer explained away with a simplicity that sent Durin’s brain for a spin, “Don’t worry, Durin. I know exactly how to keep things going…”

After that, the last thing Durin remembered has Wanderer gently laying him on the bed. The cold air met his skin then; Durin didn’t remember disrobing, but everything was happening so quickly and pleasurably that his brain hardly caught up.

Then Wanderer’s length was pressing against his thigh, hands on his sensitive horns, thighs clamped around his tail, and all that was running through his head was images and images of mind melting pleasure.

Wanderer’s hands trailed down Durin’s chest, stopping just above his belly button. “Are you sure?” He asked, just because.

Durin’s own hand came to grip at one of Wanderer’s wrist. “You’re the one I’m doing this with,” He said, breathlessly, “Of course I’m sure.”

A low laugh rumbles through Wanderer’s throat. “If you keep saying sweet stuff like that, this night’s going to be a long one,” He warned, but his tone had softened, just by a fraction.

Durin laughs in response. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

An answering sigh makes Durin giggle more. “Slow first, okay?” Wanderer mutters roughly, hands gently pushing Durin’s thighs apart. “It’s your first time, isn’t it?”

When Durin nods slowly, Wanderer exhales again. “All the more reason to soften up the pace,” He says, mostly to himself.

The dragon laughs again. “You treat me like I’m fragile.”

Wanderer scowls. “Because you are.”

“I didn’t live my life for over a hundred years just to get treated like a baby,” Durin reminds him. He spreads his legs a little wider, invitingly, wriggling his hips a little.

Hat Guy lets out an exasperated huff. “At least let me prepare you,” He grumbled, and Durin finally relents, giving a quick nod. Wanderer’s hand deftly spread Durin’s legs a little more, dragging a finger through Durin’s wet slit.

Durin let out a soft gasp, hips bucking slightly. “Hat Guy—”

“Shut up,” Wanderer responded, then added, “And don’t worry. Slow, right? I made a promise to you. I won’t break it.”

Durin relaxes, and Wanderer takes the opportunity to insert a finger inside. Durin instantly clamps up again, but Wanderer just holds him until he relaxes again, murmuring soft assurances and gentle touches; a side of him Durin had never seen before; a side of him that was so much explicitly kinder it made his chest ache.

Wanderer was finally able to curl his finger, and Durin bit his lip to keep himself from screaming. Wanderer clicked his tongue, using his free hand to pull Durin’s lip from where it was caught between teeth. “Don’t stop it,” He murmured, “Just let go. Okay?”

His breath hitched in his throat before he nodded. “...Okay.”

And when Wanderer slips another finger inside, Durin does his best to obey. He moans, low in his throat, and lets Wanderer lead.

After all, he’d trust Wanderer with his life.

There are three fingers in him now, pumping knuckle deep. Wanderer’s draped over Durin, nose buried in his neck as they both breath. “Still good?” He grunts. Durin feels like his teetering on the edge— Feels like he’s about to burst.

His mind is turning to mush at this point, and he hopes that his moans and shivers can get his enthusiastic point across. Wanderer smirks. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

While Durin rapidly approached his peak, Wanderer kept up the pace, slowly increasing and increasing until his fingers were just a blur of motion giving Durin overloading pleasure. The feeling kept riding up and riding up until Durin’s body froze mid-thrust and his brain stopped working just to feel the gush of something coming out and coating Wanderer’s fingers.

The laugh that Wanderer made was breathless. “Good,” He praised lowly, and Durin’s breath caught again, flush spreading throughout his body. “Breath, first.”

Moments passed before Durin finally gave his cue, Wanderer rose until he was on his knees, still slightly bent to loom over Durin. His hands were still pressed against Durin’s inner thighs, keeping them apart. “I’m going to put it in now,” He warned, “You can still say no.”

Durin just rolls his eyes. “I’ll still say keep going, no matter how many times you ask,” The dragon points out.

Wanderer runs a hand through his hair; Durin loves the way it falls over his face. It’s messy, imperfect, and so beautifully human if fills him with a fierce joy. Durin’s hand came to touch Wanderer’s chest. “Wanderer,” He says softly, and Hat Guy’s attention immediately snapped to him, “I’ll be fine. Keep going.”

Responding with a jaw clench, Wanderer grits out, “The things you do to me… Unbelievable.” He shakes his head.

“Isn’t that why you like me?”

The air grows more charged. Wanderer tenses, and Durin worries over whether he overstepped before Wanderer hesitantly conceded, “...Sure. Whatever you like.” His fingers press into the flesh of Durin’s thigh.

Eyes widening, Durin can feel the rate of his heart picking up. “I— I…” Excitement floods every bone of his body, “Hat Guy.”

Wanderer looks at him, and Durin stares right back. “I need you. Please, Hat Guy—” The string of words that follow are ramblings, I love yous and Pleases and I need yous strung together in nonsense that Wanderer is somehow able to follow.

“Hear you,” Wanderer silences him in two words, “Don’t worry so much.” He lined up his length with Durin’s entrance, the head catching on the rim. Durin let out a soft, pathetic noise at the feeling.

Durin’s hands pulled up Wanderer’s, making them rest at his hips. “I’m ready,” Durin urges, and that was enough. Wanderer slowly pushed it in, head popping inside, making them both groan.

Wanderer fell forward, burying his face in Durin’s neck and nipping, slightly, soothing it with his tongue. His arms wrapped around Durin, pressing their bodies close as his hips rolled. That same bliss was rapidly approaching again, and Durin’s nails clawed at Wanderer’s back, red lines tracing like a brand.

“Close, so close,” Durin starts babbling, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

“Won’t,” Wanderer replis, picking up the pace, “So shut up.” After that, it was all noises; no more words exchanged, just love and pleasure and sin until it burst like the flavor of a sweet grape on your tongue: ripe and full.

Durin’s chest heaved as he came down from his high, Wanderer’s hips still moving and stirring the stickiness at the apex of Durin’s thighs. Durin’s hand reached out, clingy, grabbing his Hat Guy by the shoulders and bringing him close.

“So good,” He mumbles, “Love you.”

Hat Guy’s spine grew stiff from the embrace. He awkwardly attempted to pat Durin’s side. “Uh, yeah, you did good too, Durin,” He says, the words sounding almost foreign on his tongue, “Real good.”

Lips pulling into a pout, Durin looks down at Wanderer on his chest. “Hat Guy,” Durin frowns, “Do you not love me?”

Hat Guy just stiffened further. “Of course I do…” Wanderer sighs, and was immediately met by Durin’s hopeful face, “Alright, fine. I love you too. Are you happy?” The words were rushed, said in a panic, but they were filled with a sincerity that made Durin completely delighted.

“Yes,” Durin smiles, “So happy.”

“...That’s good. You should be happy.” Wanderer eventually replies, looking off to the side, “But you must be tired. So sleep.”

“I can’t really get tired though—”

“Sleep.”

He does.

When Albedo came in with the Traveller and Paimon, Durin was fast asleep. Wanderer was awake by now, laying on his side to look at Durin appreciatively.

Albedo stopped and stared at Durin, his nude form thankfully covered by a blanket, and gave Wanderer the most utterly betrayed facial expression he had ever shown anyone. “What,” Albedo asked, “Did you do to my brother?”

Wanderer’s finger lazily circled the hollow of Durin’s throat, somewhat fascinated by the tick in his breath. “He said ‘Touch me.’ I said okay.”

Traveller looked like they were hiding their amusement. Paimon let loose an overly scandalized gasp. She looked like she was about to explode with a lecture before the Traveller clapped a hand over her mouth in order to speak first. “It sounds like you did more than just simply touching,” They pointed out, a smirk spreading across their face.

Wanderer gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, and Paimon shoved the Traveller’s hand away, the fairy floating closer to the edge of the bed. “YOU—!” She squawked, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO DURIN?! HE LOOKS LIKE HE’S GONE THROUGH WAR!”

The screech made Durin stir, and Wanderer’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Shut up,” He snapped, “He’s resting. And you’re disturbing him.”

A slow mumble escaped Durin’s mouth, and Wanderer’s gaze immediately flicked down to his face, that subtle softness he showed only to those closest to him appearing. His thumb brushed Durin’s cheek, but then he looked up and that same smug smirk appeared on his face again.

“Hey, Albedo. Tell me, can male humanoid dragons get pregnant? Do they lay eggs?”

Albedo stiffened. “That is not in  my realm of expertise—”

“HAT GUY, WHAT THE FUCK?!”