Kharg closed his eyes when Darc slid a rough hand lower and bit back a soft gasp. He expected Darc to chuckle or to taunt him for his reaction, but there was nothing aside from skin against skin and scales against scales. Kharg's were not as pronounced, but they were clearly there. They--

It had not been a bad discovery, nor had this in general. He reached for Darc, his own hands finding skin and scales and dragging out a moan matching his own.

Darc shifted, Kharg shifted, hands together, on--

On what they both clearly needed that night. Together.