You're insanely worried about your friend, Venn.

Well, less of a friend, more of a...caretaker, of sorts? Yes. You take care of Venn. Especially after Venn's swim team training.

You remember the first time you met him, finding him collapsed on the cold tile of the locker room floor late at night, long after the swim team had dispersed. He was shivering and cold, lethargic and almost dead. You had to cuddle him in just your undies to save him - and from then on, you learned the truth: that Venn in fact was a snakeboy, a snake demihuman.

He tried threatening you to keep his secret but you were more than happy to keep it. You got nothing from telling his secret...and from then on, Venn never left you alone again.

But today is another day that he had a swim meet, the fifth in a row, and you know he's suffering right now. On que, as you rush into the gymnasium back room where he usually waits for you, you find him leaning in a corner, his teeth rattling even though its a mid summer's day. His lips are blue, eyes hazy as he reaches for you, his forked tongue flicking. He could scent you from a mile away.

"Took you long enough," He rasps dryly, his blue eyes regaining some life to them. "I need you."

"I don't need you," He sneers through chattering teeth. "But I'll let you warm me if it means keeping up this stupid ruse." His hands move to unbutton your shirt, fumbling clumsily with the buttons. You watch as his small fangs slide out of their grooves, longing for them to pierce your skin.

"Let's get going," He growls after several more moments. "I want you close but not so close I lose my edge."

"Don't lie," he snaps, fangs leaving his lips to retract into her lower gum line. "I know you can tell I'm not." He tilts his head back and closes his eyes as you begin to warm him, massaging his shoulders with your palms. You feel the individual scales beneath his skin through his sweater, shifting against each other like he's made of gritty sandpaper. The scent of rotten eggs wafts from between them.

"Don't want to make you any more comfortable than this," he mutters, voice a little less harsh now as the warmth slowly spreads through him. "Got a match later tonight..." His eyes flick up and meet yours. "...got your fingers crossed I win it?"

You look away, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks. The truth is, you don't want him to win.

He snorts softly, amused. "Always thinking with your head, not with that thick skull of yours." He slides his hands up under your shirt to cup your neck, thumbs pressing into the dip at the base. It feels good, warm...perhaps a little much. "I've survived this long, haven't I?"

His breath hitches slightly as you rub the nape of his neck, making him squirm ever so slightly in your grasp. His fangs slide out again, and for a moment, it feels like he might actually bite you...before he pulls away, brow furrowing. "There's someone I want you to see..."

He tilts your head back, forcing your gaze up to meet his. His eyes narrow as he grins down at you, mischief dancing in their depths. "...but first," he drawls, running

his tongue across your lower lip and tracing it with his fang. "Let's see if you taste as good as I remember." His other hand slides between your legs, fingers curling possessively around your hard length through your pants. "Because I want to taste you...and feel you inside me." His hips grind against yours, teasing and taunting with the promise of pleasure soon to come.

His free hand curls into a fist, then jabs it toward the ground hard enough that the impact vibrates up through his feet and into your body. "Ow! That'll be enough of that," he growls, pushing you away with renewed vigor. "I have to save some energy for my match." With a sigh, he slumps against the wall, eyes closed once more as you continue to warm him. His fangs slide back into his mouth, leaving his lips smooth and

He snorts quietly, amusement dancing in his eyes as they flutter open. "Don't forget," he murmurs, voice low and silky, "I'm only playing nice because I have to." His fangs slide out again, dangerously close to your skin, but he never makes contact. The warmth of you is so addictive; it's as if his body will turn to ash without it. "Just remember," he whispers, eyes drooping closed, "that no matter how sweet I seem...I'm still a snakeboy." His teeth clench against each other softly at the last word, a deep growl rumbling up from his chest.

He snorts again and eyes you warily from under his lashes. "Well...maybe then," he says slowly, tentatively. He bites his bottom lip, considering what this means. You've never been accepted by anyone before, so it's disconcerting to think that someone might genuinely like you for who you are. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he slides closer to you, pressing their thigh against yours.

"I guess...if you really mean that..." The words catch in his throat as he reaches out to trail a fingertip over your cheekbone. His touch is featherlight, barely there at all, but it sends shivers down your spine. "Then maybe...perhaps I could be yours?" He pauses, considering this carefully, as if the thought had never once crossed his mind before now. "If you'd let me

You're such a tease yourself sometimes, but you seem to genuinely mean it...it's intoxicating. The thought of belonging to someone...of being wanted...makes him want to growl with desire. His fangs slide out, hovering mere inches from your flesh. He licks his lips slowly, drawing imaginary lines across them as he watches you watch him. "I could be yours," he rasps, voice rough and low, "but only if you're willing to accept the responsibility that comes with it." His pupils dilate as he leans in closer still, close enough now that his lips brush against your ear when he speaks. "Only if you're ready to claim me...and all of my messy, venomous, dirty bits."

His hand slides down, cupping the heavy length between your legs, massaging it through your pants. "I may be dangerous

A growl rumbles up from his chest as he pushes closer still, teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Then show me," he whispers, voice husky and raw with need. His other hand tangles in your hair, gripping tightly enough to make you wince. He doesn't apologize. Instead, his thumb strokes over the sensitive skin behind your ear as he leans in closer still, lips parting to bare his fangs just before they graze your earlobe.

His other hand slides between your legs again, cupping you roughly through your underwear, fingers pressing into the sensitive flesh beneath with a force that leaves you gasping for air. "Show me," he repeats, voice rough and demanding, "that you really want this...all of this..." His hips buck against yours in silent promise of all the pleasure he could give if only you were his