And where Len has plates interlocking along his shoulders and spine, running in intricate patters down his dark skin, Mick has patches of more subtle scales. Gleaming in tones of bronze and gold in the half-light of the fire along broad shoulders, the line of his spine raised in harder, almost armored bumps that can morph into spines in the heat of battle. The scales are mottled with heavy scars along his arms and chest, a battle that had very nearly cost the half-dragon his life early in his youth.

The only hair on his body is the faint stubble along his jaw, a nod to his half-human heritage but the innate heat in his body was enough to burn away the rest as he'd grown.

Mick is still panting for air as he presses up against him, feeling the cool skin of the Tiefling against his body, the tantalizing squeeze of his tail around his thigh. He growls as Len writhes against him, wanting more, needing more as bare skin slips and slides along his eager cock. However far they get he knows he's going to make it so good for his partner. The half-dragon wants to see him come undone, to see that dark skin sheened with sweat and cry out in ecstasy.