[Shiro looks at him though a haze, awed all over again at how blissed out Darc looks. It aches a little, that they wanted this, needed this so bad. But flush with victory, Shiro really can't summon much regret. He drops his hands back to Darc's hips—skin on skin, prosthetic on scales—and slams him down in a gush of his fluid.]
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[Shiro looks at him though a haze, awed all over again at how blissed out Darc looks. It aches a little, that they wanted this, needed this so bad. But flush with victory, Shiro really can't summon much regret. He drops his hands back to Darc's hips—skin on skin, prosthetic on scales—and slams him down in a gush of his fluid.]