Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Darkwing was surprised when he got a call from a SHUSH 3rd party holder. There was a situation on the outskirts of St. Canard involving a major highway and semi-trailer owned by a nationwide hardware franchise. The circumstances were deemed too dangerous for police but not urgent enough for the full force of SHUSH. Besides, the person responsible for said situation had asked for him by name.

Gosalyn was in school, and Launchpad was across the city meeting with someone from Duckburg. Drake Mallard was flying solo. With the situation not ideal but necessary, he sped across the suburbs to the urban outskirts of St. Canard, placing guesses on who was responsible for such an out-of-the-way crime and why they requested him. But upon closing in the last mile to the scene, the identity of the mystery culprit was melted away. Namely by the number of civilian cars and police cruisers hefted and suspended in the air by plant roots the size of subway cars.

The final hint Drake received was a clip from an on-scene officer’s radio. Something about thorns and snapper plants. Yep. It was Bushroot.

Guiding the suited-up Ratcatcher through the maze of terrified people, cluttered traffic and asphalt that had been peeled up like potato shavings wasn’t easy. Finally, at the last cop car, Drake dismounted and ran into the thicket of brambles and cactus. Balling up his cape, Darkwing swore quietly to himself as he didn’t want any more holes in his custom silk-blend. Just as he prepared to chop his way through the small pop-up jungle, the plants around him receded, pulling in their barbs and opening a way toward an up-turned trailer in the middle of the highway. He then ran ahead down the path that was shown him before pulling his gas gun. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

Or was it?

Inside the tractor trailer was a roiling mess of vines, pulling dozens of white bags into the sunlight before setting them in a neat pile. And sitting on the top of the trailer was Dr. Bushroot, his fantastic pink plumes opened skyward as he sucked in sun and warmth.

Instinctually, Darkwing took aim even as he was running toward the scene, “Hold it right there, you over-grown thistle!”

Chartreuse eyes with blue pools popped open and immediately a look of worry came over the plant-mutant’s features.

“Whoa! Would you point that somewhere else!” Bushroot curled a finger and a root wider than Drake’s arm snapped out of the ground and grabbed his hand.

Dropping his gun to his left and only free hand, Drake pointed his weapon at the doctor and sneered.

“I’ve been working on my weed-eating formula,” the safety was off, “Care to sample?”

The villain held up his hands as his flower hair fluffed back to its normal shape.

“Will you please!” Bushroot flinched. “I asked for you here! I don’t want a fight!”

That made Drake frown harder, “Says the lettuce head on top of a massive highway pileup! Come down and keep those hands up!”

The mutant swallowed hard as a Monstera leaf the size of a rug snuck over the truck and gave him a ride to the pavement. He held up his hands and Drake noticed his appearance was a little softer. He sported more yellow than his usual vibrant greens. That made Darkwing lower his gun.

“I can explain! These I bought these!” Bushroot threw a thumb over his shoulder at the pile of white bags.

“You bought them? To steal them?” the hero squinted as he pulled his wrist out of the root’s grasp and marched up to the convicted criminal. Bushroot swallowed and ground his jaw as Darkwing stood before him.

“I’m not stealing them!” He argued.

Drake was nose to nose with him, “You overturned a semi-trailer on the freeway, disrupted hundreds of people’s Thursday afternoon and made a mess of public property! What do you mean you’re not stealing?”

At that there was a flitting expression of anger on the mutant’s face, “Can you see me walking into a hardware store in St. Canard and asking for the 2 metric tons of plant-grade nitrate that I ordered online?”

He had him there. Drake settled back onto the balls of his feet, “You bought these? With what money?”

Bushroot dropped his hands and looked cross, “Selling roses. It’s honest money. I have the invoice.” Motioning for it, Darkwing holstered his gas gun. “It’s in the truck! I don’t have pockets.”

Sniffing, Drake stepped around the scientist and made his way over to the cab of the semi. Swatting plants out of the way and toeing around broken glass, he fished out the invoice from a folder in the glovebox. He glanced over the paper and saw that Bushroot was telling the truth. Still… nitrate in such a huge quantity… in the hands of a convicted supervillain.

“Your story checks out, Bushy,” Darkwing snorted, walking back over to the mutant. “But I can’t let you have your order.”

Bushroot’s eyes flared, and Drake could have sworn he heard a rattle of dead leaves, “Why not?!”

Bushroot was the twisted supervillain form of a supposedly famous botanist bookworm biologist who decided to experiment on himself. Though Bushroot was powerful, his character was very much non-hostile and adverse to confrontation. Should he figure out how dangerous he actually was and what he was capable of, he could very well be one of, if not the biggest threat to this side of the seaboard. So, it sent a tendril of fear and concern oozing into Drake’s mind when he heard Bushroot take such a tone with him.

Darkwing stood his ground, “This is nitrate.”

“Plant grade nitrate! Meaning it has additives and is not conducive for bomb making, if that’s what you are implying!” Bushroot growled out.

“That being so… 2 tons is a lot. And can make a lot of dangerous things,” Drake saw the scientist rub his face in frustration.

“It’s for my plants. My roses to be exact!” He was getting more agitated.

And Drake was then torn… He was doing his duty as a hero by keeping dangerous things out of dangerous people’s hands. But then again, he’d always had a soft spot for Bushroot. And he knew Bushroot was more inclined to his plants than anything else.

“Listen, Bushroot,” he sighed, still receiving a glare from the mutant. “I believe you. I know you just want to be left alone and garden. If it were up to me, I’d let you have what you bought.”

Bushroot grimaced as Darkwing walked over to the pallet of nitrate and sat on a bag, “I feel a ‘but’ coming on…”

“Let’s strike a deal. I’ll let you take a quarter ton of your order today. No following, no tracking, nothing,” Drake grinned a little as he saw some stress drop off Bushroot. “And I’ll let you have the rest. Over time. But in little bursts. So that way I can keep an eye on what you’re doing. And if you’re just using it for your flowers, you have nothing to be concerned about.”

Bushroot sneered, “That will hurt my crop!”

“Hey!” Drake leaned forward, “You asked me here. I’m easier to deal with than the police or SHUSH. I’m doing my job and giving you more leeway than I’m required to give you. Now either you take my deal and have some of your nitrate with a little supervision OR… you can have none and walk away with a blackeye. Your choice, Doc.”

Drake tilted his hat and hoped his expression mirrored his statement. Bushroot’s eyes scanned over the pallet of badly needed chemicals and then over Darkwing’s form. Finally, he caved, his shoulders slouching.

“Deal, Darkwing,” he grunted. Drake swelled at the agreement but then shriveled just as fast.

Now he’d have to spend a lot of time with Dr. Reginal Bushroot.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

SHUSH was surprisingly easy to convince of his half-baked plan. They had agreed to Darkwing’s terms and felt that, given the circumstances, he would be best suited to deal with Dr. Bushroot. They even transported the other 1¾ ton for him! But they had dropped it off at his lair, much to his embarrassment. And now, he had to look at dozens of bags of nasty smelling chemicals for a while.

For better or worse, Drake had agreed to give Bushroot a GPS that he was able to activate. Once activated, it would send a ping to Darkwing’s console, and they would have a meeting place. Two bags of nitrate per ping. Doing the math on that, Drake figured he had about 40 meetings for every 40 pounds surrendered until Bushroot got the full hoard. And he cursed his big mouth. Now, instead of an efficient means of controlling a supervillain, Drake was now a babysitter. He was supervising Bushroot garden, and he hated it. So much for being clever.

The first ping came only days after Bushroot overturned the semi. In the back of his mind Drake knew he should be suspicious of the timeline. But he was already tired of looking at those horrid white plastic bags and the chemical smell it gave off. Loading up the Ratcatcher with two bags, Darkwing had sped out of St. Canard, leaving Gosalyn with Launchpad as their foosball game had gone into overtime.

The pin on the ping had dropped along a long dry canal, neglected and in disrepair. Darkwing’s eagerness to get rid of the nitrate was now overcome with reality. Cutting the engines, Drake took a bag in his fist and kept the other on his gas gun.

“Alright! Get your leafy behind out here!” Drake walked over to the nearest patch of grass and stamped on it.

There was a soft chuckle from behind him. Darkwing whirled around to the noise and saw juicy vines pulling the second bag out of the Ratcatcher’s saddlebags.

“HEY!” Drake snarled as he watched the plants float the bag into the air. “Get out here! This wasn’t part of our deal!”

And then the bag of nitrate in his fist became considerably lighter. Darkwing had a second to acknowledge he’d been had when the same vines latched across his chest.

“Gah! Bushroot!” Pulled from his feet, he was now suspended on his back. Blue eyes were peering down at him.

“Good evening, Darkwing,” he seemed cheerier than the last time he’d seen him; greener too. Drake glared.

“You have two seconds to release me or I’ll-!” But his tirade was stopped before he got started.

“Oh, you’re coming with me. I have something to show you,” and in a move Darkwing didn’t expect, the polite Dr. Bushroot inhaled hard and spat right on his bill.

“Ack! That’s IT! Suck gas, you weed!” he felt the mutant’s saliva ooze down his face. Darkwing struggled hard before a strange sensation hit him.

He felt flushed… like from the inside out. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Bushroot, who was watching him just as curiously. Then his world heaved and instantly went black.

               Seemingly just as fast, Drake came to. Waking up with a start, his head swam, and he lashed out with heavy limbs. Whatever was holding him let go and he fell with a loud bang onto what felt and sounded like metal grating. He swore hard and dug his fingers into the floor. Yep. Metal grating. Shadows and shapes finally formed into hard angles and legitimate objects. Around was dark scaffolding and metal railing and beyond that was a blast of sunlight and a riot of color.

Breathing hard, Drake crawled to the railing and pulled himself upright. Blinking at the harsh light, he finally realized what he was looking at. It was a huge underground greenhouse, and he was looking at acres of rose bushes. Then he saw one plant moving about in a row of roses. The pink plumes were a giveaway as to who that was.

“Bushroot!” Drake snarled loudly, trying to get to his feet. “You felonious wire-haired fennel! You pot-headed petunia picker!”

A moment has just gone by when he was pulled into a standing position.

“Good alliteration, Darkwing,” Bushroot was stepping out of a rosebush and onto the scaffold. “I was a mite concerned that I gave you too much. Did you eat before you came to see me?”

Drake wheezed as he leaned on the rosebush holding him to his feet, “What did you do to me?!”

The mutant canted his head, “I wanted to show you my garden. Secretly, of course. I don’t want you to find out where I grow my roses. It was a sedative. Too strong by the look of it.”

The rosebush scooped Drake from his feet and held him in a clutch of soft leaves. Darkwing glowered.

“You drugged me?” It was a redundant question. Bushroot nodded.

“Out of necessity,” he scratched his cheek. “I just wanted to show you that I was being honest.”

The rosebush turned and lifted, giving Drake a grand view of the underground garden that Bushroot was cultivating. It was beautiful. Something out of the Queen of Hearts’ Alice in Wonderland garden. Roses of all color combinations dotted a sea of green. The ceiling was made of some sort of greenhouse-grade filter and made such a dark place feel warm and alive.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Bushroot was standing beside him. “My roses are of the highest quality. Thanks in part to the nitrate. Roses are finicky and need the right soil to thrive.”

Drake glanced around, “Where is this, Bushroot? Underground, obviously… but where?”

The mutant grinned slyly, “Oh, you’ll find out eventually, I’m sure. But for now, you can take a guess.”

Frowning, Darkwing mopped his brow, “Fine. You were telling the truth about the roses. As soon as I can walk, I’m going to tie you into a knot and take you to SHUSH.”

Bushroot seemed unconcerned, “Why? Because you slept a little? You’re welcome.”

Drake glared, “I had no idea you could do that.”

His companion blinked, “All drugs, from pain relievers to libido enhancers, come from plants. Of course I can make whatever I want. It’s just a simple matter of weight and proper dose. I miscalculated with you, because you were carrying a twenty-pound bag of fertilizer.”

Now that Bushroot mentioned it, Drake’s aches were gone. Even the ankle pain from breaking it earlier that year.

“You could have just told me where you wanted to take me,” still Darkwing argued on, pitiably realizing that he was so relaxed as he looked out over a secret garden maintained by the supervillain that drugged him.

Bushroot looked at him funny, “Somehow I feel like that would have been much more complicated. Besides, you look like you’re enjoying my roses.”

Drake rolled his eyes, “Why did you spit on me?”

At that Bushroot chuckled, “It was the fastest and least invasive way to knock you out,” he replied, gazing out at his roses again. “Pollen takes too long.”

“Pollen?” Drake repeated. “Are you trying to give me hay fever?”

Dr. Bushroot let his eyes walk around Darkwing’s face, “Pollen is the way certain plants reproduce, Darkwing. It’s produced by male plants with the intent of finding a female plant and making more plants. I assume you know how that works?”

Drake gaped, “You… were trying to… pollinate me?”

Now Bushroot was laughing, “Pollen is made up of microscopic grains. Easy to inhale. I can make pollen that has the effect of my spit. It just takes longer to sedate angry superheroes.”

Nodding, Drake was just relaxed enough to not press that further, “So in theory… you can pollinate other plants?”

Coughing into a fist, Bushroot poorly hid a laugh, “Oh I’m certain I can. But there are ethical issues aside from making mutant and potentially sentient plant children. Besides, I still prefer non-plant lovers over flowers.”

“Mmm,” Drake acknowledged. “Plants are probably less complicated anyway.”

Bushroot glanced over him again, “Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve been talking to a plant for a while now.”

Darkwing chuckled and let his eyes slip closed, enjoying a clear mind and painless body, “You, when not up to no good, are more of a conversation than a lot of people I know. That is why we have this little arrangement with the fertilizer. You’re not the worst plant out there, Bushroot.”

Rolling his shoulder, Drake sat forward. His world was a little foggy and he knew he’d probably have to call LP to come pick him up or get SHUSH to tow the Ratcatcher. He figured he’d be angrier about that later.

“Alright,” he set a toe onto the ground, “everything looks good. I’ll be on my way then.”

But annoyingly, he found he couldn’t put all his weight on his feet without his world heaving hard and had to lean back into the rosebush.

“What’s the rush, Darkwing?” Bushroot’s voice was in his ear, and it sent a shiver rampaging over his relaxed body and heavy brain. The supervillain was so near to him, and he found he could do little about it. Equally, he didn’t want to do anything about it.

Glancing upwards, Drake saw Bushroot peering at him. And then he saw tiny pearlescent golden orbs falling from the mutant’s plumes. Pollen. Once again, Drake felt hot from the inside out. He swallowed and wondered if the mutual attraction he and Bushroot shared was an effect from his potent saliva or the pollen sprinkling down on him.

“I’ll be late for dinner,” Darkwing lied, trying to muster a sneer as a bittersweet smell soothed him. “I like to boil ornery vegetables.”

Bushroot smiled, “Veggies are good for you.”

Drake licked his lips, getting a sweet taste from the pollen, “So I’m told. I don’t believe it.”

“Can I convince you otherwise?” Soft pea shoots coiled around Drake’s jelly legs, and he felt his nerves celebrate. Darkwing was cracking.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

He never pegged Reggie as a damn good seducer. It had to be the pollen or whatever chemical concoction was in Bushroot’s saliva. But Drake found himself initiating and leaning into a kiss. The plant shoots traveled up his body, breezing into his feathers and up his jacket. Like fingers, they plucked apart buttons and grew down his arms.

Bushroot tasted fruity, his tongue leaving a salivating sensation of coconut oil in Drake’s mouth. He pulled away when he felt vines slip up the back of his head and underneath his mask, rubbing at his temples.

“If you’re going to kill me or unmask me, do it already,” the last of his resistance was dropping fast. His glare was met by an affectionate expression.

“You still have my nitrate, Darkwing,” Bushroot replied, leaning in again and passing his sticky tongue over Drake’s open mouth. “Why kill you… when we can be doing this more often?”

The hero pulled the villain’s tongue back into his mouth and sucked it clean, “This… is business. I’m keeping an eye on you.”

Bushroot hummed, “Oh sure. Whatever you’d like this to be called.”

Drake gasped when he felt a silky, leafy palm hold his erection. When? How? And he couldn’t stop himself from shuddering. So briefly, an alarm went off in his head before it was snuffed by lust.

“That-…” he blinked and completely surrendered control of the situation. His stare was on his cock, standing tall and greedy in the fading evening light as a pollen covered hand teased him wet. “-… feels good.”

He felt Bushroot grin on his neck, “You’re warm. Can I go faster?”

Drake wanted things faster and harder; he wanted everything Bushroot had as fast as he could get it.

“I don’t like not seeing you,” he heard himself say and he felt a flush sear his complexion. He prayed his mask hid it, but he was certain he blushed down to his shoulders when the mutant stepped around and was now hovering over him.

“Better, Darkwing?” With the new angle came a whole new sight. The backdrop cast light over his form and his pink petals now had variants of purples, fuchsia and white.

He was so much prettier than he’d acknowledged. Well… what to do with this new angle? Be awkward, of course. Drake brought a hand up to Bushroot’s face and flicked his beak. The scientist looked stunned.

“The next time we do this, lay off the spit and pollen,” he chastised. Bushroot sighed through his nose, cutting Darkwing an irritated look.

“You’re complaining?” And then the mutant curled a finger. The pea shoots gently wrapping around Drake tightened significantly: his legs were curled underneath him, and his wrists bound behind his back. The vines brought his pelvis to Bushroot’s chin and Drake forgot his thought entirely.

With a smile and a proud stare, the villain laved the flat of his thick, sloppy tongue up the hero’s cock. From base to tip, his magic saliva sent heat and numbness and sensitivity and euphoria beating on Drake’s common sense. He made a pathetic noise as Bushroot went down for another, longer taste.

“You would, Darkwing,” vines curled around Drake’s bill and into the corners of his mouth. “Trust me, you’re going to regret complaining.”

And Dr. Bushroot went to work. He pulled the whole of Drake’s cock into his mouth, lips sitting flush with his feathers. That was almost enough to make him pop his cork: he had such a perfect seal on his skin that it was impossible to think right. And then Bushroot started bobbing his head. Right off the bat, the mutant’s rhythm was enough to knock all the fight out of Drake. His saliva was viscous and translucent with specks of gold and it was speeding out of his mouth and onto Darkwing’s feathers. Wicked and wet sounds punctuated the blowjob.

 Drake’s tongue curled around the vine in his mouth and Bushroot’s eyes popped open. Briefly he wondered if he could feel it through the plant.Well, of course he could. He rolled his tongue around the smooth tendril and Reggie’s eyes fluttered closed, continuing his sinful blowjob. Drake’s fingertips were free, and he groped around until he felt the stalk binding his wrists. He stroked that and sucked on the vine in his mouth, hoping to at least show a little participation. It may have been moot but that didn’t matter. The hero lost track of his movements as he tumbled back into receiving. The relaxed muscles in his legs were tightening, his groin pulling and heaving: his climax wasn’t too far off. But Bushroot suddenly slid off his cock and chuckled breathlessly.

“Careful, Darkwing,” the vines in Drake’s mouth moved, coiling in the back of his throat as if feeling the wetness. Another chuckle from the mutant made his eyes open. “Your tongue… that feels good.”

Oh, so he could feel that. Drake rolled the vine around his mouth, positioning it for a suckle. With his fingertips, he grabbed at the rosebush, touch sliding down leaves. He watched Bushroot, who’d seemed rocked by his random ministrations. He’d leaned into the hero, smooth chest resting on Drake’s cock. Pollen coated his costume as Bushroot’s plumes rubbed on and dusted the dark fabric. Another wave of pleasant numbness stunned the hero. Drake’s brain rolled and he tilted his head back as he rode the sensation. Bushroot’s tongue followed a tendon on his neck, to his chin, beak breezing into his feathers.

“You have a strong mouth,” he whispered. “Darkwing… we can end it here. OR… we can go all the way. What do you say?”

Drake’s breath caught as the vines in his mouth slipped away. He instantly missed the oral sensation and inwardly chuckled at this new epiphany.

“Doc…” he slurred, body aching at his offer. “It’ll kill me if we don’t…”

The mutant chuckled, rapping his leafy fingers on the hero’s hips, “Tell me about it.”

Something tugged at Drake’s tail, and he gasped. Bushroot pulled up his blue turtleneck and let his mouth map out the hero’s chest and stomach. Nerve endings jumped and buzzed when another smooth pea shoot pulled his tail away from his body and swirled decadent circles around Drake’s ass. The hero clenched and his erection bounced hard against Bushroot’s chest. The botanist curled a tender, leafy hand around his rioting skin and began to stroke him slow enough to keep him distracted. The plant playing with his ass was opening him, prepping him for an impromptu fuck. Oh, it felt so good, and Drake was excited to think about what came next.

“Wow… you feel great, Darkwing,” Bushroot came off his chest and locked eyes with him, “Are you ready for me?”

Lust was drowning them, and they wanted the fastest pleasure. Unspoken attraction between them coupled with the consequence-free environment was heartbreakingly perfect. Drake nodded, leaning forward for a kiss.

“I’ve been ready,” he wasn’t lying. Bushroot kissed him fervently.

Viscous strings of saliva and sap glittered as they pulled apart. The drool fell and cooled on Drake’s feathers, making him shiver and clench on the vine stretching inside him. Bushroot bit his tongue, fighting down a greedy smile.

He leaned back, far enough to perk Drake’s curiosity. The mutant exhaled and then his purple hair folded upwards into a bulb. It pulsed, the petal tips glowing before falling back over his face. Over his own pelvis, Drake saw a large lavender sprout appear and rub on his inner thigh.

“Uh,” the hero managed, feeling a little concerned. Bushroot blinked.

“Ah,” he canted his head, “the fun thing about plants is that they grow and regrow. The same with me. I can regrow appendages. And I can grow other… accouterments as well.”

Drake laughed, feeling as if he should have expected such a party trick. It lightened the mood as Bushroot’s defensive expression relaxed.

“As long as I do not get splinters, I have no other requests, Bushroot,” he quipped but then he grinned mischievously. “But I would like to see it.”

The mutant stepped out into eyesight and Drake was stunned at the sight. Bushroot had grew himself a phallic looking flower bud. It was textured and pastel: sweet and delicate looking. Drake felt excited that he would soon feel it inside of him.

“Neat, Bushroot,” he winked at the mutant, getting his green complexion to turn red. He flexed in his restraints, “If I knew you could do that, I would have asked you for a fuck a long time ago.”

There was a strange expression on Bushroot’s face, “I can do a lot of impossible things, Darkwing. But had I known you were… open for this, I would have asked a long time ago as well.”

A rail of electricity bolted through Drake’s chest, and it wasn’t the sex pollen or sap beating down on his brain. Was that confirmation of silent feelings? Well… thinking back on their various encounters and fights, Drake knew he hadn’t been super subtle about his partiality to the meek plant-lover. He knew of Reggie’s past and his nature and how his heart wasn’t bad just… a little impressionable. Maybe that’s why he was choking on pleasure right now rather than arresting Bushroot.

Best leave that for a time when he could think clearly and not under the influence of modified plant hormones…

“Well, let’s not waste any more time, eh?” Drake pressed down on the vine still teasing his ass, causing Reggie’s focus to lock.

The tip of his plant dick began weeping translucent glitter sap, “R-right… ah… are you ready?”

The hero chuckled and watched the botanist round and position himself between his spread legs, “Ready and raring, doc.”

Drake felt the vine opening him fall away and something soft but firm press just into him. The look of restraint on Bushroot’s face was laughable. And he slowly pressed in. His plant dick was strange feeling: it was textured and ribbed but soft and smooth. And he felt every shape until Bushroot bottomed out. The mutant gave a needy exhale.

“Wow. You’re so warm,” he whispered. Drake noted that his cheek was resting on his.

“You’re not what I expected, Bushroot. Better, actually,” he tried to keep his voice steady, but he felt his hungry body twitch and demand for his partner to move.

There was movement around the hero when he realized it was Bushroot’s vine-like arms. They wrapped around him in an embrace before he sealed a kiss to his mouth. Damn… just damn. This felt painfully right. And then he began to move. Bushroot’s hips were brought to his, making their bodies bump. Drake moved against the plants holding his legs and their master allowed this. Strong legs wrapped around Bushroot’s whippet-thin body and held fast.

Sap flooded Drake’s mouth as he kissed Bushroot. He drank him down, reveling in this long-unsaid connection. Their mouths trailed away, and Drake leaned forward, mouthing down his long green neck. He kissed the moan that reverberated in Bushroot’s throat. He grinned, feeling the mutant’s humps going a little ragged as he lost concentration.

“Bushroot,” Drake clenched his lower stomach, knowing that tightened his ass around his partner’s dick. He tremored on his chest with the new grip, “You can go faster if you’d like.”

Bushroot licked his lips, “Alright.”

His pace picked up and the friction turned to lightning. The ebb and flow of being stretched and relaxed caused Drake’s guard to completely drop. Vines unseen but felt moved up his back and between his shoulders, held his hands and tickled the back of his head. Drake sighed and leaned into his partner, his cock thrumming between them. He felt fuzzy but his lower body was tightening and loosening in waves. One hell of a climax was teased, and his excitement grew.

“You feel… so nice, Darkwing,” he heard Bushroot whisper. Drake’s eyes cracked open.

Small purple flowers were opening along the mutant’s arms. It was lovely and honest, making him smile.

“Likewise, Bushroot,” he didn’t care that there was a soft sprout teasing the corner of his mask, “I have a feeling… I’ll need this… and you more often.”

Reggie leaned back, cerulean eyes wide as he searched the hero’s face. At ease with what he’d just said, Drake grinned and tilted his head forward.

“I-…” he stammered as the small purple flowers bloomed yellow. “That would be nice.”

Drake chuckled and let his eyes slide close again, tightening his legs as he noted Bushroot had stopped moving again. He shifted and as the mutant’s hips started moving again, he felt his forehead rest on his. And that’s when things started to spiral into lust again. Bushroot hit deep with thrusts that made the rose garden echo with their sex. Pleasure felt like it was bubbling over, and Drake’s hungry body and hazy mind was demanding to be satisfied.

“Doc,” he whispered, lower body tightening at length now, “I’m… close.”

Bushroot hummed in his ear, “Then let go. I’ll catch you.”

Drake’s breath hitched. He ached for release; his body had only to grant his wish. Wetting his mouth, he tasted sweet sap and pollen and Bushroot’s kiss. The night had not gone as planned. But Drake wouldn’t change a moment of it. Now he was tumbling out of control with someone with whom he felt a genuine connection.

“Reggie,” he breathed, “there!”

Arching into the mutant’s chest, pleasure overflowed and screwed down on his hazy head and tortured body. And Drake came hard, hands free and senseless. His heart pounded in his ears like a drum as his body celebrated his release. He couldn’t make a sound as his vision grew dark around the edges. Muscles and skin roiled, setting off fireworks up his spine and down his extremities. What a climax!

“There you go,” he heard Bushroot mumble. “It will last longer than usual. You enjoy it.”

How could he not? Pleasure in waves, aches and pains gone and his head was full of foggy affection. He didn’t even have to support himself as he leaned back into Bushroot’s arms. His partner licked his cheek and the corner of his mouth as his teeth chattered.

“My turn,” Bushroot sounded distracted and in the back of Drake’s mind, he knew he was still moving in him. Pollen fell on his fuzzy tongue as he inhaled hard.

“I-! Bushy-!” Speech was thick in his slurring mouth and spinning body. A vine moved around Drake’s forehead and pulled on his head.

At his exposed neck, Bushroot pressed his mouth to his throat and whispered something in a tone the hero wouldn’t have believed if he wasn’t there.

“Oh… what a lovely honeysuckle, Darkwing,” and then he anchored, crying out into Drake’s neck feathers.

Something inside of him moved and then a new wave of heat and relaxation washed over him. Drake gasped, which passed under the mutant’s mouth. Vines tightened on him and the rosebush tickling his back trembled as their master climaxed. The sound of leaves rattling and trees creaking filled their ears. And then… silence, except for their elated breathing.

“Darkwing?” Bushroot’s timid tone was back. “Are you… alright?”

Drake opened his eyes and by the look on Bushroot’s face, he wondered what his expression was.

“I feel…” he paused for a long moment before chuckling, “great, Bushroot. I feel great.”

His leg and pelvis muscles were still tight and pulsing. Drake was impressed… he was still cumming. At the hero’s confession, the concerned expression dropped from Bushroot and was replaced by pleasure and relaxation.

“Good… good,” he dropped his head, his purple plumes tickling Drake’s beak. “I… am still cumming.”

Drake leaned in and nuzzled his head, humming as he was unable to say anything else. And finally, his climax tapered. Calm and clarity hit acutely, and Drake just wanted to pull his arms free and hold Bushroot. Placing a kiss on Bushroot’s head and licking a bead of sweat from his green skin, the hero leaned back and let his body swim.

As his vision sharpened and reality set back in, Drake was a little alarmed to see the once dark underground garden space covered in bright yellow flowers. He felt Bushroot shift and exhale happily. Slowly, he pulled free. Bushroot’s great flower cock fell free, and Drake suddenly felt lighter. His own cum was pooled and dripping from his stomach. Bushroot grinned at him before waving a hand. The vines holding Drake aloft loosened and fell away, leaving him to lie back on the rosebush and catch his breath.

“Wow,” the hero praised, rubbing at his eyes, and readjusting his mask. He felt Bushroot lean on the rosebush before kissing his chin.

Drake caught his mouth on his and wrapped his arms around him. That motion seemed to release more happiness than the sex moments before.

“What are your feelings about veggies now?” the mutant whispered. Drake grinned.

 “Still on the fence,” he replied, “but I’ve always liked plants and the people that grow plants.”

There was a snort out of the botanist followed by another kiss, “And I like detectives when they are not trying to arrest me or give me a blackeye.”

Drake chuckled, “Stay out of trouble and that will stop.”

“It is…” Bushroot said softly, “nice to know that you’re watching out for me, Darkwing.”

And again, that syrupy feeling jumped around Drake’s chest. The hero’s eyes popped open, and he felt some weight on his conscience.

“Well, your heart is in the right place, Bushy,” he rubbed his back and played with the mutant’s leafy tail-feathers. “I see it… Just try to stay a super talented botanist that can work miracles, ok?”

He felt Bushroot smile on his neck, “I can work miracles?”

Drake’s face caked in a blush, “Y-! I’ve seen you literally grow a jungle on a city block! And you’re growing a huge underground rose garden!”

The mutant laughed, “That’s not what you meant, Darkwing.”

Groaning, Drake attempted to push Bushroot off him, “That’s exactly what I meant, you troublesome tulip!”

Bushroot held fast before his tongue slid back into Drake’s mouth. That knocked a little fight out of him, and he kissed back.

“Thank you, Darkwing. I can’t wait to do this again,” he said and gave Drake another deep kiss. The hero was seeing stars. Sap and saliva mixed again, and a faint bittersweet taste flooded Drake’s mouth.

“Ah… same, Bushroot,” he opened his eyes but saw his world heaving again, just as before. “Uh… Bushroot?”

He caught the mutant smiling down at him, “Until next time, Darkwing.”

Drake swallowed and licked his lips as he felt heat mix with unconsciousness. He wished he could give Bushroot a better send off than passing out in his garden.

Drake came to, leaning up against the Ratcatcher, looking into the pre-dawn sky. Oh wow… he’d been out of the house for a long time. Launchpad and Gosalyn must be worried sick. Drake wiped his mouth, loving the taste of Bushroot’s morphine kiss. And as he fished around his jacket pocket for his phone, he found a rose and honeysuckle tucked in the collar of his sweater. The flowers were flaked with pollen. Drake made up his mind to put them in water and on the kitchen table so that he could look at them all the time.