A Megaman Zero fanfic by Neo Qwerty
"Not half-bad, Gentle Judge."
Fafnir's voice was somewhat hoarse from the stranglehold he'd had to squirm out of, and he was hunched over, one arm pressed against the still-smoldering gouges dug into his side by his adversary's fingers. Most of his damage was centered on the heavy armor, the ceratanium cracked under the force and heat of his foe's blows, and one of his helmet's horn was laying in pieces near the sparring room's entrance. He also had various blackened spots on his fuschia-and-white skin, and some dented bruises from getting too close to his partner's feet.
"Right back at ya, Fightin' General."
But if Fafnir looked bad, then Blazin' Flizard was even worse. One of his legs was so mangled that it was the only reason he was standing so straight and proud; he'd under-estimated the other warrior's versatility and had been bitten by one of the Knuckle Busters. His cape had been reduced to ashes when Fafnir had pumped a long stream of burning fuel his way. One of his hands was still sparking from having been shot at, and his jaw still ached from the punch he'd been thrown when he finally disarmed his opponent.
"Guess it's time for round two, Flizard."
The Judge barely managed bracing himself when the wounded Fafnir tackled him to the ground, and the two of them fought tooth and nail to make the other surrender. Fafnir ignored the pain streaming from his wounded side, and Blazin' simply shut down his crippled leg. The two could probably have fought until they were so exhausted they simply crashed from lack of energy… If Fafnir hadn't tried to poke Flizard's right eye out, and thus declared that fighting dirty was now allowed.
Blazin' bucked hard against Fafnir's weight, squeezing one eye shut as the Guardian's thumb pushed and rubbed over the side of his face, and he planted his one good foot on the other's pelvic armor. Fafnir's eyes had narrowed, and he'd opened his mouth to yell at him, when Flizard started up his fiery dash system, near-immediately overheating the ceratanium. Fafnir threw his head back and howled, thrown off the Judge as his armor splintered and fell apart, panting for breath and his face curiously red.
"…Do that again."
Blazin' blinked, before drawing closer to Fafnir on one knee and both hands.
Fafnir blinked back, rolled his eyes, lifted his head from the ground and seized his forearm, and insistently repeated his order.
"Do that again."
Blazin's hand was guided between the general's legs, and even if he wouldn't have wanted to harm the idiot… He was just too shocked to, and damn, but Fafnir had a good grip. Flizard's want to get out of that situation resulted in another flare, fire burning at Fafnir's skin and heating the hair-fine map of conduits under. When Fafnir arched into the hand and let out another ear-ringing yowl that was definitely pleasure, Blazin' stared open-mouthedly.
"…Yer gettin' off on fire?!"
Fafnir managed giving him the evil eye without letting it get ruined by the fact that his whole face was flushing a bright red.
"And you're getting off on being beaten."
Blazin' gave Fafnir an incredulous and outraged look, trying to pull his hand back again. Fafnir sighed, released him and shifted his leg, nudging the golden ankle-ring between the Judge's legs and drawing a startled gasp from him.
And when the other sputtered indignantly about how it was Fafnir's fault (it was), and he wasn't masochistic (he wasn't), and he didn't like being forced to submit (he did), Fafnir smirked with a show of fangs and flipped the Judge over on his back again. Flizard snapped out of his undignified stuttering and narrowed his black-and-pink eyes at Fafnir, only to let out a startled hiss and kick his moveable leg in the air when Fafnir's fingers curled against his arousal.
"Wow, you're running pretty hot. Is that something every fire Judge has, or is it just you?"
Blazin' hissed again, swiping at Fafnir and snagging the remaining helmet horn, pulling it away to let short sun-bleached blond hair stick out all over the place.
"Shaddap, will ya?"
In retrospect, Fafnir asked for it. But right now, it sure felt unwarranted and really, really damn pleasant. When Blazin' grabbed at him and pulled himself up partially, Fafnir knew there was something going on. It left his mind when Blazin' grabbed Fafnir's ass with both hands. And when Blazin's hands got surrounded in fire, pushing against Fafnir's skin like that, the Guardian lost it and screamed for the third time as it singed little heat-resistant conduits. But Flizard didn't stop then, instead keeping his grip on the slightly-larger fighter and maintaining the fire until Fafnir ran out of breath and started rasping out near-nonsense.
"Oh, god, Flizard, I'm never letting you leave this room, fuck yes, hotter, hotter! You're not leaving, I'm, I'll, gonna ask X to transfer you, oh god yes, Blazin', yes…!"
Fafnir's hand, still curled around the Judge, finally began moving, stroking him and disrupting his concentration. As the general roared out his climax, mouth opening wide, lips curling back, nose wrinkling and his back arching, Blazin' dizzily thought that he did indeed look like his draconic namesake.
And then, the Judge noted with vague horror, Fafnir had no fucking idea what downtime was. As soon as he'd recovered his wits from his fiery orgasm, looking no worse for wear, the general pushed Blazin' up and started using his mouth on the other flame-elemental Reploid. Blazin's eyes fell shut and, hissing, he let himself drop down on the floor, white hands grabbing at Fafnir's short hair.