Bro, I'm not an Undead!

(A/N: Parental guidance is advised.)

"The situation, you say?" the Sif princess said and she planted herself against Skullius' bare chest. Her hair tickled his chin. "Are you only doing this for the good of Aigas then?"

Skullius had seen it coming from a mile away. Uyuniya had warned him about this trap.

Women were masters of planting deadly bait. You had to be watchful of the way you responded to their questions.

But even worse than that, women liked to be lied to. It wasn't because they were fools who couldn't distinguish truths from lies. No. They were intelligent enough to tell when a fool was lying to them, but like all humans, they loved to settle and calm their hearts with sweet lies. The lies of men tended to be more reassuring than their own.

Instinct and pragmatism almost led Skullius to tell Darwel that indeed, he was only doing this because he wanted to lure in Luserus and get his aid for the sake of his (Skullius') plans and Aigas.

But…

'Lie like your life depends on it!' the Hybrid Warmoth told himself desperately, but on the outside, he wrapped his arm around Darwel's waist and with a finger, he traced the small of her back slowly. He moved upwards and felt her squirm. She hadn't expected him to have such practiced, steady fingers.

Do not let her get the edge during foreplay. You'll slip and reveal yourself to be an amateur if she takes the lead. You don't want that.

Skullius remembered this bit of Uyuniya's advice with a passion.

"This is an apocalypse, what might be the end of the world," he said to Darwel as his other hand expertly traced its way from her curve to her chest. "As powerful as I am, as much as I have grown, I have no solid confidence that I will come on top in this chaos. I don't indulge a lot, certainly not with women. But I'm here with you."

While the Sif princess felt his soft, practiced touch on the soft lumps over her chest, and the finger on her back tracing lower past her waist, she closed her eyes and allowed his words to fill her mind.

This was the Festos she remembered. The one from back then – the one who was always open about his annoyance at her constant visits.

When he said that indeed, he wanted to be here with her, she believed him even if that probably wasn't entirely true.

"Who says business and pleasure can't do a waltz," said Skullius as his lips traced Darwel's forehead, her cheeks and then slid to her neck, "until they achieve a perfect blend, especially when the world is about to be lit aflame."

She's probably vanilla, so soft and gentle is key. Touch her lightly. Don't be aggressive. Say all the pretty nonsense you can think of, even if it doesn't make all that much sense.

Skullius had taken this advice to heart as well, especially the latter bit.

He hadn't used this ability of his in a while, but he was indeed a master of bullshit!

"Would you feel better if we were doing this while the world was burning behind us? Behind that window?" Darwel asked him as she suddenly wrapped her arms around Skullius' shoulders and slung her long, blameless legs around his waist.

Skullius was caught off guard.

'Dammit!'

How did the thousands of memories he had absorbed from bandits and brigands not have notes about all this? Did he only have the memories of rapists and minutemen?

'She's going to get the edge!' Skullius panicked.

Why was he trying to be gentle, really?

Why wasn't he trying to be as quick as possible and be done with it?

It was in his best interest to plant his seed and get to communicating with Luserus, wasn't it?

The answer was simple. He didn't want to feel like he had simply used and discarded Darwel. She had played a big part in helping him get where he was, after all. If she never told him about Luserus' shrine, he wouldn't have known how to upgrade his Insurgent Magnus powers.

She was an ally and respecting her decision to do this for him and Aigas was not beneath him as a Divine.

'Come on, sockethole! Remember what Uyuniya said!' he told himself as he balanced his own body and Darwel hanging around him.

It's alright to lose yourself in the feeling. This is your first time, right? It's more than just physical passion, you know? It's sharing energy and mood, venting and release. If you allow it, it will be more than just a one-night experience. Enjoy yourself.

Could Skullius do it?

Indeed, he could.

He cast all meaningless apprehensions aside and tried to go in earnest.

"You talk too much," he found himself saying, and then he stopped being hesitant. He grabbed the pair of large, soft, round 'pillows' on Darwel's body and squeezed. A current raced through him. He indulged it. It felt just as thrilling as awakening new Skills and Andori.

Darwel whooped in surprise, but then her eyes became bright, mischievous moons that stared into his, accepting the challenge. She wouldn't be outdone.

As Skullius pushed her onto the bed, her face attacked his - her lips planted onto his.

The two felt a coursing current that imparted the same bizarre, somewhat foreign, but thrilling sensation that tied two passionate souls together.

It was strange to Skullius. In theory, sharing saliva was a practice that should only promote negative hygiene (not that he was an expert on flesh-to-flesh interactions) but in this case, all pragmatism was shed away. He was enjoying this and his skill in it wasn't subpar.

A switch must have been turned on in Darwel. She pulled Skullius' head closer with both hands and pulled on his hair. He was stronger so she used all her strength. She couldn't hurt him, after all.

Skullius continued to be gentle, lest he crushed her. Darwel's legs were still clinging to his waist tight, but that did not dampen his mobility one bit. He raised her by the waist, such that she was sitting on his thighs while he was on his knees over the bed.

Darwel wouldn't let go of his lips. She did unspeakable things to them and his mouth while he excited any part of her that had even the slightest desire to be flicked, rubbed, groped or cupped.

Darwel shed away her dress and threw it away with a passion.

Skullius shed away his robe and pants, made from darkness.

This was it.

Since he became a discount human and every other variation of humanoid with the upgrades to [Flesh It Like You Mean It], he had gained the necessary senses and organs the average humanoid was meant to possess.

And the tool for the work that was necessary now had long been gifted to him. It was quite adequate, or perhaps… far more than enough for a mortal's satisfaction.