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"...You're so beautiful. You look so beautiful like this..."
Prismo's hands held his waist firmly, thumb rubbing at a seam in his carapace.
"Hmmm... What are you planning, oh great Wishmaster?"
"Well... We do have these bodies. For a little bit longer. I've got no plans for right now. But I could. Or, we could cuddle. Up to you, Lovebug."
Prismo busied himself with Scarab's neck again as the beetle thought. Or, well, as he tried to, but his own shell was suddenly feeling a bit warm. One of his claws traced around the Wishmaster's neck and shoulder.
"I... I think you're quite beautiful as well, Prismo. I'd be... willing to explore whatever plans you might come up with."
Prismo gave him a peck on the cheek, a maybe slightly smug grin on his face.
"I think that can be arranged."
And he closed the door of the Time Room.
Scarab’s nerves buzzed as fingers traced up and down his shell, soft lips occupying themselves with his neck. He shivered as Prismo nipped the edge between his jaw and plated shell, a soft trill falling out from his throat.
He could do this. He was doing this. He wanted to do this.
This wasn’t something he thought he was allowed to want. Not here, at least. Not as a god. Not when everyone constantly reminded him he was repulsive to look at. To think anyone could ever want… well, him in this way was… laughable once upon a time.
And then there was Prismo. His Prismo, who looked at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the multiverse. Who… Who loved him. Him.
“As beautiful as you are in this,” the Wishmaster cooed, hands reaching around to the back of Scarab’s dress, “would you mind if I slipped you out of it?”
The beetle nodded shyly as deft hands made quick work of the clasp and zipper. Hesitant talons pulled at the edge of colorful robes, one side falling lazily off his partner’s shoulder. He marveled at the warmth and life his fingers discovered on the human’s skin.
He had never been one to really think about skin, human skin, not with this level of attention. And yet, he couldn’t help but ponder how different it was to his own. He could feel each and every twitch and shiver Prismo made, the flowing life blood thrumming just under that rosy warm brown. This body felt… soft. Soft and alive.
As daft and as obvious that might’ve been to some, to Scarab it was… vulnerable. To Scarab, the only places he knew to feel like that was his face and back. Parts that didn’t have his shell to protect them. Parts that were easy to hurt, that had been hurt.
And yet, humans lived with no shell. Their whole body was like this, warm and soft. It hit him, just how much trust he had placed in him. His talons could easily pierce and rip and tear… But he never would. And he knew he never would. It was his warm, vulnerable body he had out on display.
And Prismo wrapped Scarab up in it, as he began to lie the both of them down.
There was a small noise clicking behind him, coupled with a snap of the Wishmaster’s fingers. And suddenly, Scarab felt surrounded by softness and warmth. He purred, letting himself feel the blankets and pillows Prismo had conjured, shifting and getting comfortable, as he found himself on his back, and a warm body resting on top of his.
Was it odd to feel exposed when the dress was pulled off of Scarab’s body? It was the same degree of exposure as most of his day to day life, and yet, he shivered at the look the man above him was giving his body.
He’d never felt more naked with how close he was being examined.
Hands returned to Scarab’s sides, and his trill was swallowed by a loving kiss. He could feel Prismo’s fingers trace the subtle dips and edges that composed his plated shell. His talons found themselves listless, one pair deciding to busy themselves in the long, coiling gray hair that was falling over Prismo’s shoulders, the other pair tangling themselves in the blankets below.
Scarab felt as if those fingers were leaving tiny rivers of sparks, ones that danced across his shell and made him shake and shiver. One hand found and tangled with one of his lost talons, the other mapping out the seams on his hip and thigh.
Prismo looked at him with such… reverence as they pulled apart again. The damn smile of his, it made Scarab melt, want to hide, feel like he was desperately starving, all at once. Scarab leaned up, not to hide, certainly not, but to nuzzle and purr into the Wishmaster’s neck, his lips and mandibles playing a bit with the hollow of his throat. There was something… grounding, being surrounded by the soft curtain of hair that made up his beard.
It certainly wasn’t to hide, shut up.
Prismo hummed, pleased, as his fingers drummed on Scarab’s leg. “You doing okay?”
“Prismo…” Scarab cooed, voice a little breathless. He pulled his head out of its hiding place, looking up with wide, eager eyes. “Keep… Keep touching me, please…”
“You’re gonna have to help me out here, Lovebug” Prismo whispered, planting soft pecks along his cheek and mandibles. “Tell me what feels good.”
Scarab clicked quietly as he thought for a moment. He’d… never gotten this far. Would Prismo… laugh if he admitted that? That he didn’t know his own body like that, despite being older than him? All Scarab knew was that touch, Prismo’s touch at least, was welcome.
Prismo seemed to spot the hesitation, his hands stopping where they were.
“Scarab?”
The beetle whimpered, trying to think, trying to guess at least.
Prismo leaned and nuzzled Scarab’s forehead gently, his eyes full of love and worry. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want it. We can cuddle, if that’s more comfortable.”
Scarab made a wounded sound. “N-No! I want it, please.” Glob dammit, he didn’t mean to sound that desperate. “I just… It’s… I haven’t…” Why couldn’t he find his words? Every time he felt like he could start a sentence, it died before it could shove past his teeth.
But the Wishmaster seemed to understand. He gave him a sweet, patient smile, kissing between his eyes.
“That’s okay, Lovebug. We’ll go slow. We’ll learn together.”
Scarab sighed in relief as the touches restarted. He decided to be a bit more proactive, one of his hands tugging on the sash holding Prismo’s robe together, to which the Wishmaster hummed.
“Hmm… You seemed to like it when I did… this.”
Fingers found their way on the plates covering up Scarab’s waist and belly, making him trill something halfway between a giggle and a whine. Prismo prodded a few different spots, seemingly looking for something.
He smirked as he found it, a thin groove between Scarab’s belly and sides, where the plates slid just open enough to lightly touch the skin underneath. The beetle moaned softly, breath hitching.
Prismo chuckled softly, kissing the side of Scarab’s head. “Found one.”
“You’re terrible.” Well, shoot, that didn’t sound as commanding as he meant it with how… wispy his voice sounded.
“Sure am. And you like it.” Prismo punctuated his point by rubbing a tingling line across the patch of skin he’d found, making his love whine.
“Can I… Can I touch you? Make it fair, at least?”
“Go right on ahead, baby. Just… be careful with those claws, alright?”
Scarab nodded, his hands finally pulling the sash free. The whole robe fell apart in a waterfall of fabric, hanging loosely down Prismo’s shoulders, or curtaining the both of them from nonexistent eyes.
The Wishmaster hummed as tentative fingers explored the warm skin they found. Scarab wondered if all humans were this soft, or if he was just lucky. Because Prismo was so, so soft. There were plenty of places to squeeze and paw, despite his age. And perhaps Scarab took some smug satisfaction in seeing the red rise to the surface.
Good to know they were having the same effect on each other.
Scarab’s musings were quite pleasantly interrupted as Prismo traced a hand on the seam going down the middle of his pelvis. He squealed, a strange, aching warmth flaring out from that seam. He whined, rolling his hips against the teasing fingers. He was chasing something, but not entirely sure what. He just knew his body screamed for more. More of that, please.
“Oooh, that was a good one, wasn’t it?” Prismo, the bastard, held his hand next to the seam, pressing down to keep Scarab still. The Auditor was not proud of the whine he made, but it was justified, regardless. “Tell ya what, Lovebug. I’ll touch it again.”
He took one of Scarab’s wandering hands, kissing each knuckle lightly, before placing it on his chest, on his pecs specifically.
“If you touch right here. Okay?”
Scarab nodded dumbly, his throat dry as he started to rub at the soft chest he’s been presented. He laid there, his thoughts emptying at the lovely noises Prismo was making. It was quiet, but not in a shy way. It was all the encouragement Scarab needed, kneading at his lover, his thumbs tracing the lovely buds he had found.
“There we go… Good boy…”
Scarab’s breath stuttered, interrupted by a moan as Prismo’s hand returned to that seam.
“Oh? Did you like me calling you that? Do you like being a good boy?”
Scarab couldn’t answer, not in any dignified manner, but his motions were answer enough. He rolled his hips, chasing the burning deep inside his belly. The chirping sound carried, only getting louder as he felt the plates there shift.
“Woah… Baby, look at you…”
Scarab felt wet, simultaneously cold from the air and burning hot from the stimulation. He made a weak noise as something dripped out of him, onto the Time Room floor. His pelvic plates opened, exposing his anatomy to the world for the first time.
“Glob. You’re so beautiful, Lovebug. Look at you, writhing for me.”
Writhing was… certainly accurate. A tentacle peeked out from the shifting plates, squirming in the cold air, seeking its own stimulation. Along the underside were small, soft, frill-like extensions, all facing back toward Scarab’s body. It was wet, shiny, and coiling around itself, looking. Looking for Prismo.
Just below it writhed two smaller tendrils, both guarding a dripping opening. An eager one.
“Hmm…” Prismo hummed as he reared up. Scarab whined as he moved a little too far to keep touching, but silenced as he watched the Wishmaster discard his unwanted robes and undergarments.
“Mind giving me a bit of an anatomy lesson, Lovebug?”
Scarab tried to pull his brain together enough to explain it. He couldn’t, not with that loving gaze trapping his eyes. Not when he felt so wonderfully and terribly exposed. His hands had nothing to do except cling to the blankets or hang uselessly above his chest. He looked away, stuffing a hand in between his teeth, trying to find clarity in the yellow walls. Maybe the colors had the answer.
Only to have his chin held and tipped back toward Prismo.
“No, baby. Don’t look away. Good boys don’t look away.”
Prismo had taken his cock into his hand, lazily stroking it as he kept his eyes tracing up and down Scarab’s body. Well, at least the beetle found something to focus on. The hand on his chin, once certain he wouldn’t look away again, first freed the talons from his partner’s mouth, before languidly dragged down his body. It settled on one of his knees, pushing them apart.
Scarab had never felt this embarrassed yet eager for something before. But oh, did he want. He wanted. Badly.
“Keep your legs open for me, baby. Now, tell me if I’m right. I think this… is your lovely cock.” His unoccupied hand moved from its perch on Scarab’s knee, loosely wrapping around the base of the squirming tentacle. He smiled wistfully, letting his grip slide up, base to tip. It tried to hold on, unconsciously seeking to wrap around his wrist. The smaller tendrils aimed to assist, attempting to catch his fingers on the upstroke.
Scarab gasped, resisting the urge to snap his knees back together. He was good. He’d be good for Prismo. “Y-Yes…”
“Good. So, what are these then?”
He traced a finger up the underside, brushing against the strange frills.
“They… They’re m-meant to… to lock m-me in…”
“Lock you in?”
Scarab nodded. “Th-There’s… another set, i-inside… Going the other way.”
Prismo continued to play with the tentacle, making an encouraging noise to keep going. Keep talking. He could do that.
“They… They f-firm up, when I… When I’m going to…”
The Wishmaster gave an encouraging squeeze. “When you’re going to cum?”
Scarab whined at the vulgar word, but nodded. “They’re m-meant to… slot against each other… Keep a mate in place until we’re… finished. I… I don’t think they should… bother you, the ones inside… Not hard enough to hurt…”
Prismo smirked, thumb tracing the small opening at the tip of the tentacle. “That an invitation then, baby? To fill you up, nice and warm?”
Scarab moaned, shamelessly, at his partner’s musings. “I-If… If you’d like to… Please… Please, Prismo…”
“Shh… I’d love to, baby. Glob, you have no idea what you do to me, hearing my name with your voice like that.” He chuckled, a moan slipping in as he continued to work his dick to attention. “So, what are these then?” He let his fingers tangle with the two smaller tendrils, which eagerly coiled around his digits, trying to pull him toward Scarab’s entrance.
“Th-They’re… I think they’re called claspers… Just meant to guide… G-G-Guide you in… Hold you in…”
Prismo hummed, one of his fingers managing to pull back the tip of one. “There’s spurs here. Sharp ones too.”
“A-A protective measure… Able to… Able to drive away un-unwanted… unwanted advances.”
Prismo nodded, leaning back down to kiss at Scarab’s neck. The beetle took the chance, hands desperate for something to do wrapping around and clinging to his back.
A part of Scarab was scared. Terrified even. He knew this was strange, his anatomy was bizarre compared to humans. He didn’t think Prismo would be the type to leave him like this, leave him this wet and desperate, but… Well, he knew this was a lot to take in.
“I can hear you thinking from here, Lovebug. You still want to do this?”
Scarab sighed out a mewl as he felt Prismo’s breath against his throat. “Y-Yes… Please, Prismo, if-if you can stand it, p-please… Please, I need you…”
“I can do better than stand it, baby. I’m going to love you. All of you. But…” Oh glob, he could feel the smirk against his jaw. “There’s one part here you haven’t told me about…”
Scarab hitched as deft fingers traced against the eager hole.
“But, then again, I don’t think you need to.”
“Prismo…”
“Shh… I’ve got you, baby. I got you. Be good. Don’t look away.”
Scarab felt two fingers ease inside him, making his back arch just a bit as he squealed. It was… so strange. So strange, but so, so good. He felt the small tendrils wrapping around Prismo’s fingers, trying to pull more in.
Oh Glob. Prismo was inside him. Touching inside him. Looking at him with that damn smile again. Scarab made a silent little plea, his breath not supporting the noises he wanted to make. He wanted to screw his eyes shut, to look away, to hide behind his hands.
But he promised.
He promised to be good for Prismo.
“You’re so wet already, Lovebug. So eager. What a good boy you are, so open to me.” Prismo swallowed Scarab’s whines and moans with kisses, dragging his fingers in and out, slowly. “I can feel what you were talking about. These little frills.” He let his fingers strum against the little ridge, making his partner buck and squirm. “They’re going to feel so good against my cock, I can already tell. It’s just begging to be stuffed, nice and full. You’re going to feel amazing, I just know it.”
Scarab could already feel a fire bubbling in his gut. It threatened to eat him alive, from the inside out. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as Prismo’s fingers prodded deeper, touching some live wire. He threw his head back, a desperate trill ripping out of his chest.
“You seemed to like that. You liked that a lot. Just listening to you is doing something to me. Makes me think. You wanna know what I’m thinking about?”
Scarab mewled, talons clinging to the soft hair and skin, trying to find purchase. If he was already this wound up, he wasn’t sure he’d survive what was coming. He was burning, he’d burn from the inside out.
“You gotta answer me, Lovebug. Good boys answer questions.” Prismo stopped his fingers, holding them just out of reach of that live wire. “You wanna know what I’m thinking about? What I’m thinking about doing to you?”
Scarab gave a shaky nod, his hips rocking into his fingers. “Y-Yes… Yes, tell me…”
“I’d like to taste you, for one. I don’t know if you realize this, Lovebug, but ever since this spot opened up, you’ve been smelling sweet like honey. I bet you’d taste good. I’d love to try it.”
O-Oh… Had he…? He had heard, a very long time ago, that a first time with a mate might make… unique pheromones happen. But it’s not like he expected a human to be able to smell it. The thought made him whine, embarrassed.
Prismo reared up, much to Scarab’s dismay, leaving him rudderless again. The Wishmaster settled his hand against the beetle’s knee, petting the joint with his thumb absentmindedly.
“I’d like to see if you could cum from just my fingers. I’d sit just like this, and watch you lose yourself. You’re already such a mess. I bet if I kept going, I’d find out. Right here and now, you’d fall apart.”
Scarab nodded, eagerly, bucking his hips.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
It was probably undignified, the noise Scarab made when Prismo pulled his fingers out. He was pretty sure he pleaded, begging him to come back, whining as he watched the Wishmaster lick the slick off of his fingers like they were covered in syrup.
“P-Prismo no… N-No, I was so close…”
“I know, Lovebug, I know.” He tapped his knee, running the hand up and down his thigh as he listened to the distressed chirps calling for him. “Shh. It’s okay, baby. I’d like to see what you’d look like, cumming from my fingers. But not for your first. Nah, your first…”
Prismo guided his cock until it pressed right against the awaiting hole, the claspers latching on and holding it in place. They made the Wishmaster shudder as he leaned back down, just a few inches from his partner’s face. He reached for one of the beetle’s hands, threading their fingers together, the other hand cupping his face. Neither dared to even blink.
“I want the first time you cum to be because of me, deep inside you.”
There was something persistent, inevitable, about how Prismo pushed in. Scarab’s body put up so little resistance it might as well have invited him inside. It was slow, almost agonizingly so. But, inch by inch, he went deeper, filling Scarab in ways he didn’t think possible.
Scarab did not realize how empty his belly was. Not until now, at least, as their hips came flush with each other, and there was no more room inside. Air had been squeezed out, or stolen by an aimless moan, swallowed by a kiss. He felt his whole body tremble, squeezing and tugging in ways he didn’t understand, his claspers wrapping around the base of the intruding cock. He couldn’t stop the erratic chirps and trills from falling out of his mouth, his mandible clicking purposelessly.
“Shh, shh, it’s o-okay, Lovebug. I’ve got you. I-I’ve got you.”
Oh, Prismo sounded breathless. That did things to Scarab’s belly, made it tremble and tense. He felt his hand be squeezed as his love started rocking his body in and out.
“C-C’mon baby. Let your hands wander. Hold on tight.”
Scarab didn’t need to be told twice. One hand firmly held onto Prismo, while the other three shot up to find purchase somewhere, anywhere. One tangled its talons deep into the coily gray hair, tips of claws grazing the scalp. The other two wrapped around his back, holding on like he’d disappear if he didn’t.
Sex was not an unheard of concept for Scarab. He’d known other gods partook, he’d known the mechanics of it.
But this was much different.
Experiencing was far, far different from knowing.
Every nerve felt like it was burning in the best way imaginable. It felt like Prismo was going to tear him apart with words alone, and the cock making itself at home inside him was the only thing holding him together.
For a moment, the insecurity went away. All the words calling him creepy, repulsive, ugly, disgusting, all the insistence that he was unfit for love, for affection, all of it was banished. Because how could they be true? How could they be true when Prismo kept looking at him, smiling at him, like that.
Scarab felt tears roll down his cheeks. He hadn’t even realized they had pooled, much less had the thought to banish them.
“Pr-Pr-Prismo…” he called, the hand in the Wishmaster’s hair gripping tighter.
“Wh-What’s wrong, Lovebug? Too… Too much?” Scarab felt a thumb wipe away the tears, but he focused more on the panic in his lover’s eyes, his motions slowing down.
“N-N-No! No, P-Prismo, p-p-please…! Please, d-d-don’t stop!” Scarab tried to show he meant it by rolling his hips to meet Prismo’s. He brought his knees up to lock his hips in place, a pleading trill calling for him.
Mercifully, Prismo’s hips moved again, gentle and patient as it reached deep inside, especially now with Scarab moving with him.
“You’re s-so good, Lovebug. How lucky a-am I? You’re d-doing so, so good. Perfect, you’re perfect.”
Maybe it was the praise, or maybe it was a small change in angle, but something inside Scarab burst. A desperate series of clicks and chirps and trills mixed with a moan, all yanked out of his lungs without his permission. Tremors overtook his body, making him buck mindlessly against Prismo, his hole squeezing the cock stuffed inside it. He even felt the frill inside firm up against the Wishmaster as something scalding hot spilled from his neglected dick.
“Oh, baby, that was good. That was so good. Do you need a m-minute? D-Do you need to stop?”
Prismo kissed his cheek, kissed away the tears as Scarab tried to pull his brain back together. The Wishmaster wasn’t done yet, he could feel it. As he processed the question, he realized that meant pulling out. But… Something in his head decided that was wrong. Incorrect.
“N-No… Y-Y-You didn’t c-c-cum yet…”
“You don’t h-have to fix that, Lovebug. I-If you need to s-stop, I’ll take c-care of it.”
“No! N-No, please, d-d-don’t… Don’t leave until you c-c-cum… W-W-Want you to cum…”
“A-Are you sure?”
“Yes! Y-Y-Y-Yes, please! Keep g-going!”
Prismo’s face flushed a deep red as he nodded, resuming his motions. Everything he was touching felt an aching eagerness, something that sent mini tremors up and down Scarab’s spine. His pelvis shuddered from overstimulation, but it wasn’t in the Auditor’s thoughts to care too much.
“M-Making such pretty noises, b-baby. All f-for me. H-How lucky am I?”
Scarab nodded. All of this was Prismo’s. He’d never share, not with anyone in the multiverse. The Wishmaster would be the only one to hear his mewls, feel his insides, taste his slick. He keened when he felt something dribble inside, the relentless motions smearing it all over.
“Y-You feel that, b-baby? Th-That’s for y-you. A-All for you.” Prismo dove down, stealing Scarab’s breath in a searing kiss, one that sent waves of heat and energy through his whole body. “S-So pretty… Feels s-so good.”
Prismo’s free hand dragged up and down Scarab’s side, digging nails into whatever little groove or dip he could find, driving the beetle crazy.
Scarab’s mind was slipping, he could feel it.
And, for once, he didn’t care. Couldn’t care. He wasn’t frightened by the prospect of losing control, not with Prismo holding him so tenderly. Not in the midst of the all encompassing heat and love. He could let go. He’d be safe if he did.
He tried to stop from crying all over again, but his resistance had long since been pushed into the depths of his mind. He made pathetic little weeping sounds, mixed with his moans and soft clicks, as Prismo picked up the pace, pushing in just that extra bit harder.
Scarab could feel his own cock come back to life, coiling around in its own slick. It rubbed against Prismo’s belly, looking for any kind of attention, trying to bring its body back over the edge.
“I’m g-gonna cum, Scarab. C-Can I? Inside?”
“Please! Please, Prismo, please!”
Scarab groaned Prismo’s name like a prayer, his claws slightly digging into that warm skin surrounding him. The Wishmaster winced for a moment, but didn’t stop. He started to fall out of rhythm, gasping for a moment, pushing in as deep as possible, then groaning low and long into the side of Scarab’s head.
The Auditor couldn’t stop shaking as he felt something warm slowly fill his belly, in all the leftover space somehow not stuffed with cock. Neither moved for a moment. Scarab made a breathless, almost unhearable trill, feeling impossibly full. He could feel some of Prismo’s spend slip past the entrance, dribbling down onto the floor.
“Lovebug… Lovebug, holy shit…”
Prismo kissed at his cheek and neck to get his attention before rearing up, watching the writhing tentacle squirm around on Scarab’s belly.
“H-Hold… Hold on, I’ve got you…”
Prismo sounded so breathless. Breathless, but content. Loving. He wrapped a hand back around the tentacle, softly stroking it.
“W-Wait! Wait, P-P-Prismo, I-”
He was cut off by the Wishmaster pressing his thumb softly against the underside and tip of the wriggling cock, holding it steady.
“It’s o-okay, Lovebug. Let me help you.”
It was so much. Too much? He didn’t know, but he felt like he was going to faint. He unconsciously bucked his hips into the strokes, lewd aborted words sneaking out of his mouth.
“I… I-I can’t… Prismo, I c-c-can’t, wait-”
“Shh. Yes you can, Lovebug. You can do it.”
“I can’t I can’t I can’t” Scarab pleaded, feeling himself be dragged back to the precipice. It was too much. It wasn’t enough.
“I know you can. Be a good boy, Scarab. Cum for me.”
And how could he say no to that?
This time, Scarab got to watch himself spill, his poor cock covering Prismo’s hand in pearly spend. The dream smirked at him, giving the tip one more good stroke with his thumb before letting go.
“There we go… I knew you could do it.”
Prismo slowly, achingly slowly, pulled out, hushing his partner’s pathetic little whine.
“You did so good, baby. So, so good.”
“Th-Thank you…” Scarab’s body was shivering all over, his trills more like warbles for the moment. Prismo pulled him close, pressing his body against his chest, running soft, soothing hands over his chest.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lovebug. Then, we can cuddle. Okay?”
Scarab made a weak little chirp, nodding dumbly. He wasn’t sure if he could stand on his own, and he thankfully didn’t have to right now.
Prismo took good care of him. He softly offered kisses and praise as he cleaned up his spent hole and cock with a gentle washcloth. A glass of water was at some point placed in the beetle’s hands, but he wouldn’t complain. Scarab happily stayed a shivering, dumb mess, as Prismo conjured the both of them soft blankets for the both of them, and a robe for himself.
The beetle almost whined as he felt the plates on his pelvis shift back into place, but was quickly hushed.
“We still have quite a long time with these bodies, babe. Be patient. Relax.”
Yes, that could be agreeable…
Prismo wrapped both arms around him, holding Scarab nice and close to his chest, letting the both of them settle.
Yes… Quite agreeable.