Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was so strange being in the plush carriage with Mr. Light sitting by Frost’s side, partially sprawled out with the Weather vane in his hands. They sat in a bit of an awkward silence until Frost was the one to break it, quickly issuing an apology for what had happened at the Big Top.

Mr. Light, surprisingly, seemed unbothered by what had happened, instead reveling in the way the crowd surged with emotion and passion. That was what the Witchlight Carnival was all about after all!

Mr. Light let the moment pass, offering Frost a sweet treat, with a wink and a smile. “Well, I won’t be busy for the next two hours~”

The wink went right over Frost’s head as he settled on a cupcake, the same ones they were eating earlier on in the evening at the Feasting Orchard. His paws gently peeled the wrapper away from the baked good, careful not to get frosting on his fur.

“You see what I like to do with the icing on top is, I pull the bottom off, and I make something of a cupcake sandwich.” He mused, a claw working through the bottom layer.

Mr. Light watched with curious eyes as Frost created his cupcake sandwich, eating the treat in two bites. He raised an eyebrow, peering down quizzically at his magical wind instrument.

The Weather vane seemed content with its current decision for the Witchlight Monarch, so he chose to question it no longer and turned his attention to the Tabaxi sitting before him.

Mr. Light continued their chat, turning to question the tiger, an eager curiosity remaining in his eyes. What did he and his unruly companions genuinely want with his beloved Carnival?

Frost answered his questions to the best of his ability, stuttering all the while as the heat rose to his neck from under his robes, clammy paws moving as if they had a mind of their own, and his tail for that matter, swishing against the cushions and air. Grasping the length of his robes, bringing his palms together to press his claw tips together, there seemed to be no end as Mr. Light struck him with a pointed question.

“Investigate what, Frost? You’re here at my Carnival investigating, you didn’t bother to stop by and talk to the proprietors of this place?” His elf ears twitched with displeasure.

“Uh- We-we assumed that you would be too busy, I-I thought maybe we would wait until the end of the Carnival if we were going to— You must be running this thing, uh… I can’t imagine you—” Frost’s ears pinned back as fumbled over his words, unsure how to truly answer the question.

The heat was rising.

He brought a paw up from his lap to tug at the collar of his turtleneck, giving a little relief. Perhaps now he was feeling the effects of wearing so many layers on top of having fur, but now of all times was… Strange to say the least.

The elf studied the way Frost started to crumble, a small grin stretching across his painted face. There was a rush overtaking him, similar to the thrill of preforming in the Big Top Extravaganza but different.

“You look nervous, Frost.” The words hung in the air as Mr. Light leaned closer to whisper in the tiger’s ear. “Do I make you nervous?” The words dripped from his mouth like honey.

A shaky breath left Frost’s muzzle, a quiet “No” following close behind it. He breathed a small sigh of relief as Mr. Light reclined, though he continued to feel yellow eyes run along his form. It sent a shiver down his spine, continuing down the length of his tail that flickered to and fro.

Mr. Light smiled as he spoke, motioning towards the tray of cupcakes sitting before them. “Go ahead and have another cupcake.”

Frost let out another, quieter sigh as he calmed himself, letting his tense shoulder drop and his ears straighten as he reached for another cupcake. “…Just one more, perhaps.” He said, peeling back the wrapper and setting it on the tray with the other one from before.

Mr. Light reclined further on the plush cushions practically sprawled out on his side, a hand resting on his chin and the other is holding the Weathervane close to his mid-section. “Why don’t you show me again that cute way you eat that cupcake~” He said, almost sounding like a command as a smirk worked its way onto his lips.

Frost pauses, a warm heat rising from his neck onto his cheeks, his ear flicking in discomfort once or twice. Now, he was getting mixed signals. He flushed, blinking a few times as he tries to steer the conversation elsewhere. “I-it’s really quite ingenious, it keeps the fro…—"

“If-if you start with frosting, it gets stuck to the top of your head and if you- if you—” He stammered harder as the elf cocked an eyebrow, ultimately cutting off his flustered rant.

Fuck.

“The frosting gets stuck to the top of your head?” Mr. Light prodded as his smirk widened, not really seeking an answer as much as he enjoyed testing the limits of Frost’s composure.

Frost swallows and he swallows hard, a sore lump beginning to form in his throat. “Um the-the mouth of your uh- the-the uh roof of your mouth. Yes.” He hurries through the last part, letting the room fall into silence to keep him from embarrassing himself further.

Was his mouth getting dry from all the cupcakes he’d been eating? Or was it from the way Mr. Light was staring at him, hanging on to every word that tumbled from his mouth with that hint of lust in his eyes.

No, no, that couldn’t be right. He tried to reassure himself, but that doubt still pooled in his stomach, staring at the floor of the wagon with wide eyes.

Double fuck.

Mr. Light’s eyes stilled on the Tabaxi, watching his shoulders tense as he hunched over slightly, paws digging into the soft material of his robes.

Oh, to be the one to disrobe him. The thought bloomed, soon taking over his mind. But I can’t break him too soon, there’s still so much to talk about.

Mr. Light changed gears, his widened smirk fading to a pursed grin. “…I see.” It took a moment for the elf to remember what they were talking about, getting so distracted by how flustered Frost had become. “So, tell me more about this person and who you’re looking for.” The words soothed the tiger, allowing his chest to heave in a breath of warm air, bringing with it notes of spice.

Frost straightened his posture as they circled back to their conversation from earlier. The warmth on his face and chest cooled as he provided answers to one of the Carnival’s owner’s pondering questions.

But he couldn’t help himself as his eyes wandered, seemingly following the elf’s gaze as yellow eyes traced his body, stopping in a few places before continuing to wander until they found their way to his muzzle. Frost’s eyes stared past the elf, daring not to make eye contact as he explained their encounter with the Kenku before he was cut off.

Mr. Light shifted his position into a kneel, he leaned forward and reached out, his hand resting on Frost’s jawline. “You have a bit of frosting on your lip, Frost” He purred, swiping away a bit of white frosting from the tiger’s muzzle. His hand lingered against the soft fur, sending a fresh wave of red up to the tiger’s cheeks.

Frost’s blush further deepened as the hand retreated and the elf licked his hand clean, all the while half lidded yellow eyes peered at him. The pit in his stomach deepened, his doubt and worry being replaced with confusion and a warmth he hasn’t felt in quite some time.

He bit his lower lip, trying to keep his thoughts steady. “Oh, uh th-thank you- I think you got all of it. Anyways—”

Frost managed to continue on with their conversation. They exchanged a few more words until the sight of the elf staring at him with such… alluring eyes became too much to bear. He felt his composure slip, soon question after question poured from his muzzle until a slender finger met his lips, silencing him as a quiet shush fills the carriage.

“If you bring this Kenku to justice I will answer all of your questions, my dear.” Mr. Light purred with a soft smirk on his lips.

Frost froze up, eyes widening as he peered down at the finger silencing him, following up the arm until his eyes met Mr. Light’s. Mentally he swore, a shiver running down his back as a blush returned to his face.

He pulled away to speak, his stutter worsening. “W-well I-I would typically consult my-my-my friends before I uh—”

“They’re currently on a mission for Mr. Witch; they’ll be indisposed for the next hour or so.” Mr. Light put his stammering to rest. “Have another cupcake, Frost.”

This time, Mr. Light was the one to pick up a cupcake with a wink and hand it to Frost, dropping it into his outstretched paw. Frost looked on curiously as Mr. Light’s delicate hand traveled along his own, cupping the soft underside of his paw for just a moment before returning to his side.

Frost looked up from his paw to face Mr. Light, then back down at the baked treat in his hand, his mouth slightly agape in soft disbelief. I don’t know how much more I can take this. I need to stay focused; we have a job to carry out. His thoughts swirled in his mind like a whirlwind with Mr. Light being the jet stream behind it all.

He looked back down at the cupcake in his hand, taking a deep breath as he began to undress soft cake. This gave him the courage to gather more intel about the nature of this Kenku. He remembered and brought up the Kenku’s involvement with the accident at the Dragonfly ride.

Mr. Light answered him, detailing another incident or two relating to the Kenku and her displeasure with the Carnival owner’s lack of cooperation with her trouble; all the while silently licking his lips as Frost ate his cupcake and seemed to miss a bit of white buttercream frosting on his mouth.

He offered Frost another cupcake, but he declined. “I-uh I have had quite a bit of cake already today but thank you. Three cupcakes is enough.”

That cheeky grin from before makes its way back onto Mr. Light’s face. “Would you prefer a tart?” He says, followed by a wink, his eyes gesturing to himself.

Frost’s eyes follow Mr. Lights, up and down his slender frame. A gentle blush creeps onto his face as his brows furrow slightly, blinking away some confusion. “It is uh- very tempting.” He starts, reaching up to adjust his collar, his ears flicking back. “I don’t usually indulge in sweets like this. It’s just… the Carnival has me all riled up” The end slips out before he can even think about what he’s saying, his blush deepening.

Mr. Light mulls over his words, glancing down from the Tabaxi to the Weather vane. “the Witchlight Carnival has a way of playing with one’s emotions and bringing out our true feelings, our true nature if you understand what I’m saying.” His eyelids droop as he looks back to the Tabaxi, a smirk cresting his painted face.

Frost doesn’t try to maintain eye contact, those downright sinful eyes wearing down on him like a grindstone. His tail nervously flicks beside him seemly of it’s on accord. “I hope that I can find the discipline and focus, I know is true my heart…” The words spill out from his muzzle, eyes glued to the floor. Though it was unclear if the words were intended for Mr. Light or Frost himself.

There’s a beat of silence before Frost feels something pressing into his thigh. He nervously glances up to find Mr. Light sitting next to him, pressing himself as close to Frost as humanly possible.

“What is that scent you’re wearing Frost?” Mr. Light leans closer, his nose pressing just under his jawline as the scent of fresh split wood and vanilla fills his lungs. “It’s intoxicating” His breath is heavy, as if trying to soak up the other man’s scent. It is so alluring, and he wanted more.

With Mr. Light being so close, the source of the warm spice from earlier as apparent. The scent made Frost’s head spin as he tried to answer. “Th-this is just my natural musk but th-thank you…”

A hum left the elf’s lips, an idea brewing under his cap. Frost’s erratic heartbeat could be heard from the close proximity, thudding like a drum under his fur.

Frost wasn’t fairing any better. He bit his lip as his blush deepen. Beads of sweat began to collect under his hood from the warmth, the beginnings of an erection starting to brew under his robes.

A few moments passed before Mr. Light pulled back, locking eyes with Frost as a satisfied smirk dawned on his face. “We should bottle it up, could sell it for a hefty price. Now as I was saying!”

Mr. Light continued to fill Frost in on his Kenku troubles, giving Frost time to pull his hood off and breathe as the cool air met the top of his head. He couldn’t help but move and shift on the cushions, struggling to sit comfortably as Mr. Light continued to press more of his body into Frost’s. At some point resting his leg against Frost’s thigh.

Frost tried hard to remain focused on the task at hand, but as he stuttered his way through denying another cupcake, Mr. Light pulled away and lit a stick of incense, the rustic scent of dried berries and herbs filling the wagon.

Frost waits a moment for the scent of freshly burnt incense to clear the air, reaching for another cupcake against his best judgement and inhales, the slight musky yet sweet-floral scent filling his nose.

“Is that Elderberry?” He hums, a pleasant, gentle smile over taking him as he eats the last of his cupcake.

A grin dances on the elf’s face. “Oho, you have… quite the sensitive nose.”

There’s a look in his eyes that Frost can’t quite make out, somewhere between intrigue, and entertainment. The more Mr. Light learned about this Tabaxi, the more he was fixated with him and all of his mysterious yet charming quirks.

“I’ve uh, spent my life honing my senses. I am quite sensitive to… smells, visions, touch—" Frost’s explanation is cut short as a hand graces his inner thigh, gently kneading the fur and muscle through the fabric of his pants and robes. “O-oh I-I- uh…” He sputters.

“So am I, Frost.” The owner of the hand replies, looking up at Frost with lustful eyes.

The air in the carriage felt stiff and humid as Frost tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart, the heat rising to his face taking over him.

Fuck!

“You have a bit of frosting on your lip, Frost.” The words trickled into his ears and before he could react, with a swift motion Mr. Light had perched himself on his thigh, reaching out with both hands to cup his fuzzy jawline.

No words were exchanged as the elf planting a kiss on the outer corner of Frost’s lip, cleaning a bit of the buttercream frosting before proceeding to smear it across Frost’s lips, along with his red lipstick as their kiss deepened.

A soft noise escaped Frost’s mouth. Not a protest or a rebuke, just a simple hum of surprise. He could taste the buttercream on his lips as the scent of elderberry and warm spices overwhelmed his senses, leading him to close his eyes and lean further into the kiss.

This wasn’t where he thought his night would go walking into the Carnival but by the gods was he not complaining. To hell with it all.

The kisses were a bit awkward at first, but as they both adjusted to kissing the other species and found the right angles, soft, gently kisses deepened as a slender hand made its way around his neck, in turn he rested his paws on the lower back of the elf straddling his thigh. A please rumble sounding from the back of the Tabaxi’s throat.

Tongues lapped at one another, gliding across teeth and fangs all the same. It wasn’t long before one of them pulled back for air, a thin trail of saliva connecting the pair who drunkenly gazed at each other through half lidded eyes.

It’s almost like time stood still for them.

“I-I um…”

“You are… quite the kisser, Frost.” Mr. Light softly panted. “My, I’ll say I have never caught the eye of a Tabaxi before.”

A raspy chuckle escaped Frost’s lips as his cheeks burned. “W-well, you could say I-I uh have gotten some practice in.” He felt almost bashful admitting that fact, like it was some well-guarded secret.

A hand trailed down Frost’s clothed chest, stopping as it met the ornate fabric of his sash. “You put on quite the performance back at the Big Top, Frost. Perhaps you could give me an encore.”

Frost’s eyes widened at the proposal.

“A-an encore? W-well my performance was such a blunder, m-my friends were the real stars of the—”

“I want you to fuck me, Frost.”

Frost grew quiet, his eyes widening at the words.

Oh.

Now everything made so much sense.

Frost took a few moments to regain his composure, clearing his throat and more importantly his head.

If the others were sent on a personal mission by Mr. Witch, then consider this his personal mission by Mr. Light.

To hell with it all!

“I-I can do that, i-it would be an honor, sir.”

Mr. Light smiled at those words, a kiss following closely behind. He led the charge, guiding Frost into gentle kisses and teasingly nipping at his lower lip, but the more they got into things, the more comfortable Frost felt with his new request or order. Whatever, it didn’t matter to him.

Courage began to swell through Frost the deeper they went, soon pulling the elf closer by the small of his back and resting his paws on his hips.

Gentle kisses turn rough as passion and hunger fill both men, their lust for one another taking over. Sloppy kisses and lip biting, smearing red lipstick into orange and white fur. It was exhilarating. No magic was involved and yet it felt magical, like the depths of the Feywild were empowering their every action.

Their sloppy make out session came to a head a few minutes in. Frost became increasingly aware of the way his pants strained at his hips the second a knee found purchase, sliding between his thighs, and pressing against his bulge. A low groan escapes his muzzle.

His tongue was already proving itself dominate inside Mr. Light’s mouth, a cascade of soft moans falling against Frost’s lips. Feeling the erection grinding on his thigh gave him an idea. The next chance he got, he bit down on Mr. Light’s bottom lip just hard enough to receive a low groan, and in that same moment he ground his thigh up into the elf’s erection, receiving a second higher pitched yet whiny squeal.

Mr. Light was the one to pull away this time, giving Frost a look that said it all.

You dirty, dirty scoundrel.

Frost didn’t need to reply. Instead, he lifted the elf off of him and pinned his prey into the soft, velvety cushions with a swift motion. He pulled Mr. Light’s collar to the side and buried his head in the crook of his neck, licking stripes along the elf’s neck. His rough tongue against sensitive flesh sending shock waves through the man under him.

Moans and whimpers fell freely from Mr. Light’s mouth, no longer blanketed by Frost’s mouth as it was working elsewhere. “Do you, ah, always get so handsy with your audience?”

Frost pulled back just a bit, his voice a hair above a whisper. “Audience participation is a most, wouldn’t you agree?”

A blush deepened a crossed Mr. Light’s face. “Mmm… I do, like the way you, mmf-think…~” His breath hitched the moment Frost’s tongue met a particular spot on his neck.

There was a pause before Frost licked the spot again, receiving another soft groan. A hum of acknowledgement followed. “Now, for my next trick.”

The elf opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as a breathy moan overtook him, squeezing his eyes shout. A soft, rumbling purr filled the wagon as Frost began his onslaught. Licking and nibbling that sweet spot on Mr. Light’s neck, alternating between licking stripes and flicking his tongue against the node.

Mr. Light was on cloud nine, his back arching and hips bucking against what little open space was between them. Frost was there to fill the void, returning the favor and slotting his knee between the other man’s thighs.

“F-fuck!” The elf clung to the tiger, his hands digging into the emerald-green robes as he began to try and undo them. His hands fumbled against the cloth, too caught up in his own pleasure to focus.

Frost took notice, pulling back from the other’s neck with a pleased grin on his muzzle. Large, hazy yellow eyes glanced down where slender hands met his clothes.

Mr. Light was a mess, covered in smeared lipstick, faint bite marks and bits of frosting. He looked at the beast towering over him, pupils slightly blown with a blissed out expression written all over his face.

“I w-would say that the uh, performance is going well.” Frost said in between light pants, the air in the carriage growing thick and humid.

“Mmm… Very. The… audience does love.. a good act and devilishly handsome performer.” Mr. Light said between labored breaths. “You… really know how to move the crowd with such… emotion.”

“And yet you’re still fully clothed. Allow me to make my next act, a disappearing act.” A chuckle left Frost’s muzzle as he pushed himself into a kneel, his leg still firmly against the other’s hardened member.

Mr. Light let out a yelp as he was repositioned, once again straddling Frost’s thigh. Frost held his hips steady as he pulled them into another kiss, this time casting Mage Hand to help free Mr. Light from his attire.

The elf’s red and white stripped garments fell to the floor with ease, the zipper standing little chance against Frost’s abilities. His under garments fell soon after, joining the rest of his clothes on the carriage floor as Frost went back to their position from earlier, pinning him on the cushions.

Mr. Light smiled up at Frost, resting his hands on Frost’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “I am… thoroughly impressed by your abilities. You have such a way of bringing me to the edge of my seat for whatever you may do next. I look forward to a thrilling finale.”

A blush spreads across the Tabaxi’s face, his ears pinning back. “Th-thank you, Mr. Light, sir. I am uh.. truly honored to receive such words..”

Frost buries his muzzle in the other side of his neck to avoid any more embarrassment, licking feverishly along his uncovered neck, leaving a trail of red blemishes in his wake.

Frost grabbed one of Mr. Light’s thighs and pushed it further open, giving him ample room to continue. He casted Mage Hand once more, using his mind to puppet the spectral hand as it grazed the soft skin of Mr. Light, teasing and rubbing along his thighs until they sank lower. A breathy moan, bordering on a gasp escaped his lips as a cool, slick sensation met his rear.

“O-oh Frost! H-haa…”

The sweet words and moans were a symphony to the Tabaxi, drinking up every little noise and ounce of praise.

A soft chuckle left Frost’s muzzle. He leaned back slightly to free his aching cock from its clothed prison, soft paw pads giving it a few light strokes before he took Mr. Light into his hand. A long, drawn out breath left his lips as paw met his barbed cock, sparking the beginnings of a knot brewing in his stomach.

Mr. Light closed his eyes, electricity coursing through his body. He was like a loose cable, a livewire flowing with boundless energy. As was Frost, though Frost was the generator supplying such limitless power and pleasure. His back arched, stomach tensing as precum was smeared against weeping cocks, yearning for such relief as this.

Mr. Light squirmed under the pressure as the teal hand made quick work of his needy hole, a slicked digit slowly stretching him open. Panting, moans, whines, swearing- all fell from the mouth of the Carnival owner, only picking up in frequency as another finger was added.

Mr. Light’s hands scrambled to find something to cling to, turning to grip the cushions under him. He dared to look back at where their cocks met, a shaky oh. And a whine leaving his mouth. “A-ahh.. your- your dick is… Oh my.”

Frost was as stoic as ever, panting into the open air and purring from his own pleasure. “Mmf, barbed? I-it’s common among Tabaxi. I-I do suppose this is your first time seeing and w-well feeling it.”

A soft whimper left the elf’s mouth at the thought. Oh gods. Please don’t let this night end.

To Frost, it was mystical, it was hot. A warm cock rubbing against his own as he jerked them both, the act itself was enough to send him over the edge. He wanted more.

The thought of his companions returning from their duties and finding him in such a compromising position merely added fuel to his ongoing wildfire. Would they stop and stare? Would they enjoy the sight? Would they complain? Were they listening in on the other side of the door and neither of them had noticed their return? His tail twitched happily, thrashing wildly behind him as his thoughts ran wild.

A third finger brushing against Mr. Light’s had him shivering, a panting mess under Frost as his tongue eagerly lapped across his neck and collarbone. The sting of being stretched open added to the pleasure. His hips jerked forward, and he cried out as spectral fingers brushed against a sweet spot, that tight bundle of nerves that drove him wild.

“Oh, gods! Th-there, oh right there, Frosty-" He moaned and squirmed, letting the nickname slip past his lips.

Frost didn’t seem to mind, not even batting an eye when the name fell on his ears, far too used to hearing his friends call him by that name. When he was satisfied with how stretched the other man was, he dismissed the hand, allowing it to remove its fingers before dispersing. A desperate groan followed, a protest at the loss of stimulation.

“Shh, the main event is just beginning. I uh I would like the audience on their knees for this next act.” Frost’s voice was low as he spoke. He removed his paw from their slick cocks and helped Mr. Light into a more comfortable position.

Mr. Light obeyed the request, repositioning himself on his hands and knees as the Tabaxi had asked. He peered back at Frost with eyes that begged for more. Eyes that twitched shut as the warmth of Frost’s barbed cock met his ass.

“Th-this uh, may feel a bit weird at first.” Frost warned the elf, who nodded. He grabbed his hips and brought them closer, at the same time grabbing his cock and giving it a few good pumps to fully coat his length.

Frost pressed the tip of his cock against Mr. Light’s entrance before slowly pushing in, giving the elf plenty of time to adjust to the size.

Mr. Light sucked in a breath as he felt warm, slick barbs drag against his inner walls. “Oh, sweet heavens..—"

The sensation was unlike anything he had felt, drawing with it a guttural moan as he tried to catch his breath. Frost purred as his cock sank into Mr. Light. Wet, hot folds enveloped him, edging him deeper and deeper as he rocked his hips. Finally, he bottomed out, his hips becoming one with the elf in front of him. He bit his lip and fought back a noise, resisting the sudden, cardinal urge to rear back and slam into the man, again and again.

It took a few minutes to adjust to the full size, but eventually Mr. Light nodded for him to continue. “Ahh, that’s… that’s good. Y-you can mm-move…”

“Of course, sir.” Frost obeyed.

He didn’t even have to begin moving, Mr. Light was the one to pull forward and rock back against Frost, a trail of moaning and panting falling from his mouth.

Frost followed his lead, using the elf’s hips to steady himself as he thrusted into him. The sound of creaking wood surrounded them as the wagon creaked with every little movement and thrust, its wooden interior filled to the brim with the lewd sounds of skin to skin contact, moaning and panting.

Frost’s tongue hung partially out of his mouth, breathy moans, and panting chasing after it. His pace was slow and gentle at first, melting into the warmth that wrapped around him but soon picked up when he felt his mating instincts take ahold of him.

Mr. Light was so wet and warm around his cock, he could hardly control himself with the way he was squeezing him, partially begging to be filled with his seed.

Frost fucked like a wild animal, his tail thrashing behind him as he began thrusting faster and faster. His breathing grew heavy, bordering on erratic as he slammed into his prey again and again.

Mr. Light was a mess under him, moaning and grunting with each thrust that just barely brushed the tight bundle of nerves. He cried out as Frost pushed his face into the cushions, giving his cock a better angle to bully his hole relentlessly crashing into his G-spot without mercy.

Frost was perfect to him, fitting him perfectly like a key would a lock. The way Frost throbbed inside of him left him scrambling for more, not wanting for the moment to end.

“F-fro-osstt… Th-that’s it! Ahh, mmf- Oh gods..” Mr. Light mumbled out, barely stringing together a sentence. “Pl-please, oh-! Please do not stop~” In the midst of his lust filled haze, he reached back and started jerking himself off. A slender hand wrapping around his aching cock, wiping ribbons of precum along his cock, pushing him further to the brink. He swears, biting back another groan. Might be on the edge of seeing stars.

“Oh gods, you f-feel so good, sir.” Frost said in between pants. “I-I can’t help myself, th-that’s.. how good it is. S-so warm, so tight—” He rambled on and on, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.

This went on for some time before the warmth pooling in his stomach became too overwhelming to ignore, swelling up like a pot of boiling water, growing warmer and hotter and threatening to boiling over.

“S-sir- M-Mr. Light, I’m not s-sure how much longer l-last…--" Frost warned.

“’mm close too… Y-you’ve got m-me on the edge of my- my seat…” Mr. Light panted, eyes crossing with bliss on the verge of cumming.

“Th-then here’s.. the grand finale…!”

Frost slammed into him, again and again until he was a panting mess. He came with a low groan similar to a growl, cumming deep inside Mr. Light and coating his insides with hot, white ropes.

Mr. Light met him there, cumming within seconds of Frost filling him with his seed. The warmth spreading deep inside him sent shock waves through his body as he rode out his orgasm.

Frost rode out his high, partially fucking Mr. Light through the rest of his until his hips stilled. He pulled out with a wet pop, a bit of cum trailing after him.

“Th-that was… Gods…” Frost said in between labored breaths. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Light, sir, a-are you…?” His eyes widened slightly when he looked down at the man, still coming down from his high, slumped over and jolting with every little movement.

“Mr. Light?” Frost hurriedly asks, shaking off the remains of his high. He rushes to help roll Mr. Light onto his side, an ever-growing panic coursing through him, fearing the worst that he had hurt the Carnival owner in his frenzied state.

Mr. Light is breathing, much to Frost’s relief, breathing heavily. With droopy, heavily eyes lids shielding piercing yellow-eyes, Mr. Light looks up to the tiger with the kindest smile on his face that he had ever seen.

“Mm.. I-I’m quite well, Fr-Frost…” Mr. Light softly replied, shift his tired body over to lean against Frost. “That was… magical.”

Frost flushed, a small smile dawning on his muzzle. “Wh-why thank you sir, I—” As their heavy breathing calmed down, that’s when he finally heard it, the not-so distant sound of knocking. Frost stiffened at the noise, his eyes making their way over to the door. Sure enough, it was still locked. Mentally he breathed a sigh of relief.

Mr. Light blinked a few times at the door’s general vicinity, soon turning to squint at it. “I-I suppose-” He croaked out, his throat having grown hoarse before cleared his throat. “I suppose that would be your friends.”

Frost nodded, his ears folding back in annoyance at the sound as the knocking got louder. “Ah, yes… That would be them.” He sighs, tucking himself back into his clothes.

Though his body was still shaky, Mr. Light nestled closer into the Tabaxi. He looked up to Frost with such kind eyes. “I do hate that our time together has been cut short, however I will cherish this moment forever—” He stopped himself and whipped around to face the door; the loud knocking being replaced with heavy thuds against the wooden door. “Jesus Christ, are they trying to break down the door?!”

Frost gently shook his head and rose to his feet. “There’s… There’s no telling at this rate…” He turns to face Mr. Light, who’s reaching for his fallen weather vane. Frost shrugs, assuming it fell during their, uh moment so to speak. “I-I would love to stay and help clean up this mess, but I suppose I must be on my way.”

Mr. Light slowly nods but waves his hand. He raises the weather vane and with a flash of light, his clothes return to himself in the same pristine condition as they left him, and whatever mess they made is cleared. He carefully rises to his feet and pulls Frost in for one last kiss.

“I’ll cherish these memories forever, it’s hardly easy to forget the joy you’ve brought upon this carnival. I will see you soon, my dear.”

With another stolen kiss and a smack on the butt, Frost is ushered out of the Wagon, falling into the open arms of Gideon.

The door slams shut behind him and Frost stands before the group a sweating, breathless mess. He opens his mouth to speak but as he stares at his friends, the words are still on his tongue. His friends: Kremy, Gideon and Gricko, are now adorned in various displays of skimpy clothing, something that can otherwise be described as an attempt at drag queen outfits.

Frost pinches the bridge of his nose as he sucks in a breath, gathering his still fuzzy thoughts. After a few short moments, he settles on it. He looks his friends square in the eyes and opens his mouth.

“Guys. What the fuck.”