Two heads are better than one

[tanks4thememory]

Who: Clu1 and Clu 2 (a_perfect_end)

Where: Their User world abode and possibly other places

When: Some undetermined time post Legacy and after this thread

What: ABO sexytimes and maybe other things; a Clu on Clu catchall

Warnings: VERY NSFW. Multiple kinks, ABO related warnings, sorta incest depending how you view programs from the same User, basically enter at your own risk if you're not into that sort of thing

The life and times- and sexytimes of Clus One and Two in the ABO universe, collected here for the sake of convenience and avoiding page clutter. Multiple scenarios, lots of fun. Mostly of the NSFW variety.

Comments

Hot and Bothered in Cool Water-Xenophelia, merman on human sexytimes, learning how each other works

[tanks4thememory]

It began innocently enough with C'leel waking up one morning feeling restless. That in itself wasn't unusual, as he was frequently eager to begin the day, so begin it he did, going about his daily routine of crafting and organizing in preparation for taking his wares to market at the end of the moon. This time, however, the feeling didn't fade and he shortly began to find it difficult to focus on his tasks. No matter; a short swim outside would get the excess energy out of his system.

He swam through the city at an unhurried pace, occasionally pausing to greet and converse with acquaintances that he encountered. But as time passed, the feeling of restlessness still didn't fade. If anything, being around others only seemed to make it more noticeable. So eventually he returned home, forcing himself to focus on his work once more. He worked much later than was normal for him, keeping on until exhaustion finally overwhelmed the restlessness. He settled into his bed once more, hoping that the strange feeling would be gone when next he woke.

His dreams were fragmented, full of vivid colors, flashes of light on scales, and the touch of hands, fins, lips, and tentacles. And when he woke it was with a start, and to find that the vague feeling of restlessness from the day before had become both more obvious and more focused, his pouch feeling distinctly tight, its edges unusually sensitive. A few long moments of deep, slow breathing helped it settle back to normal, but the feeling of restlessness didn't diminish. Just wonderful.

Once again unable to focus, he left the house again, only to this time find a large number of his people flowing towards the city center. Curious, he joined that flow, and waited with the gathered crowd. From the murmurs of conversation about him, he gathered there was to be some sort of public announcement from the Queen Mother. They didn't have to wait long, but somewhat to his surprise, the one who settled on the dais at the front of the crowd was not the Queen Mother, but an unfamiliar free-flower whose sash marked them as one of Her Majesty's close servants. Their voice magically amplified, they addressed the crowd, letting all present know that the Queen was to clutch, and judging by the size of her bulging belly, it would likely be a large one, and like to come at any day. Further announcements, including the actual number of eggs and who was to receive them would come when more was known.

As the servant took their leave, the crowd's murmurs began to pick up again, this time more excited. Many were already placing bets regarding the number of eggs and who was likely to receive them. A few expressed concern for the Queen Mother as large clutches were always a strain, but the servant had stated that Her Majesty was doing well, so the general mood was a bright one as the crowd began to disperse. C'leel's feelings on the matter were somewhat mixed, however. On one hand, the impending birth was a cause for joy, but on the other... while it explained his unusual restlessness, it also meant that it was likely to get worse before it got better. And he couldn't help but notice the number of pairs as the crowd broke up, while he himself had none.

There was nothing for it but to return to his home for the time being however. He'd been away foraging the last time the Queen Mother had clutched, so this would be is first experience with 'the quickening', but surely it couldn't be that bad. He was a grown adult, after all; he'd simply have to endure. And endure he did until exhaustion once again forced him to sleep.

This time though, his dreams were vivid and clear. The human captain Claude, but in the form of one of the easter tribes who sported tentacles like those of an octopus. Tentacles that both held him pinned in place on his bed and caressed his body, teasing along delicate fins, brushing over shoulders and neck to make his gills flutter, and stroking along the length of his belly. His dream self moaned and panted, squirming eagerly under the touches. 'Open up for me, my lovely prize', not-quite Claude said, stroking the sensitive edges of C'leel's pouch. Taut and eager, it opened readily relaxing and expanding and dream C'leel moaned as cool water flowed in and over his buds, engorged and ready to release their seed, and begging to be touched and stimulated to further prompt its release in the meantime. Not-quite Claude was glad to oblige, filling his pouch with tentacles instead of water- however did so many fit?- and stroking every bud at once. Dream C'leel squirmed and twisted, his panting becoming mingled with sharp little cries of pleasure, increasing in frequency and volume until-

Until the real C'Leel woke with a start, finding his bed in disarray and his pouch bulging slightly with the seed he'd released during the night. Embarrassing, but that at least would soon be reabsorbed. Rather than making him feel better however, the orgasm his dream had caused had seemed to only make things worse. Despite the slowly reabsorbing seed, his pouch was still uncomfortably tight, his display lines too bright. And what had been general restlessness was now brought into sharp focus that no amount of deep breathing could ease. He wanted to mate and he wanted it badly.

He attempted to take care of it himself, but to no avail; no matter how he squirmed, rubbed, or stroked his pouch remained stubbornly closed. Indeed it actually made matters worse as his buds swelled and hardened inside it, making it feel even tighter. Even as he got a hasty meal, he could focus on little else but the growing urgency in his pouch. Until finally with a sigh of frustration, he picked up a link shell, pair to the one he'd given to Claude, and what had allowed them to communicate since they'd parted, save for infrequent meetings on an isolated stretch of beach.

C'leel spoke into the shell, the magicked object glowing softly, as would Claude's when the message was sent. It took in his words and would show them to Claude in the form of text projected in the air just above the shell. "Claude?", he said. "I know we're not due to meet again for some time, but... I need to speak to you in person if at all possible."

(GIRL U UP?)

[a_perfect_end]

Never a heavy sleeper, Claude for his part was straightening up from a late tea. This side of their voyage, it was really just hot water in a prettier cup. Dipping into captured treasure for your luxuries wasn't something even a captain dared do--all their booty was counted in common before t'were sold or bartered: those proceeds then got split fair and square among the crew as wages. Stealing from common shares was a death sentence, whether you took a pinch of tea or a whole sack of gold.

Too tired for more figures--he had half the quartermaster's review to read yet--and too, too alert to try lying down only for another round of tossing and turning, he dried his dishes, turned them over and tied them down.

It was a clean, clear, warm night, and the stars were well out, the moon a vanishing, tiny slice of silver among them. It'd be a good one for astronavigation--really, for stargazing. He had half a mind to kick Lyle straight out of the crow's nest, just for that better look.

Instead, the hapless and likely snoring Lyle was saved by the glow of a curved, golden shell perched lovingly beside the treasured teapot. C'leel's words floated gently above the shining gift, a golden memento that he jealously guarded.

in person if at all possible.

This wasn't C'leel's usual cadence--a peppering of sly jokes, questions about human bric-a-brac, and the odd request for a vase or a hatpin, all always awash in cheeky, cheerful flirting.

This was--well. Pressing and to the point.

It turned in Claude's mind like a splinter. It sounded serious. Might even be dire. If C'leel were ill, or hurt, his own healers could do a vastly better job of caring for him. But what else might put him in such an urgency? What could be troubling him so?

At last Claude held the shell close to his lips, and spoke softly to it.

"Aye?" A low rumble. "Might take us a bit o' sailing, but I'll meet you."

Where might depend on both his crew's patience and C'leel's location.

"Can y'reach Celadon Cove, lad?"

A pretty circle of unusually tall stones that sheltered soft, bright sands and green, glittering water--and a good place for a ship to hide in a hurry.