Grimm didn’t get involved in politics, no, quite the opposite. He knew early on the Pale King’s reign was set to end in flames for his feast. He watches with a morbid interest, though, as this particular Kingdom is hitting close to home. The Pale King knows it too, which is why, at the beginning, he attempts to turn to Grimm for some hidden knowledge.
“You invited me here...to gossip,” Grimm says simply, twirling his wine in his glass.
“Is She not your kin?” The King’s voice is always too even, too calm.
Grimm takes in his new form over the rim of his goblet. He had spoken to him on occasion when he was still a massive Wyrm but seeing him now, small and overcompensating with his crown of horns always made him want to laugh. Grimm had been one of the first Higher Beings to take on a more typical form (– and that had not been his choice but yet here he is) and he’s always surprised when he sees others try. Because they try too hard .
“You could call her that, I guess,” he leans back, kicking his feet up onto the table. The Pale King glares at him but he pointedly ignores it. “But why would I want to help either of you? I’m not one to get into these petty debates.”
“I thought if anyone would understand my plight, it would be you,” he’s treading carefully and Grimm knows it. He’s not a fan of politics but he knows how to play the Game. The Pale King, on the other hand, lives for it.
“Ah, but you are the one who took from her first,” he takes a sip of his wine, “I do not want for revenge, wyrm.”
His facade slips and he growls, claws tapping against the table in irritation. Their...reunions often are like this and it ends with both of them storming off but Grimm knows this is different. The conversation has happened so often that Grimm can tell the subtle differences in the Pale King. He’s intrigued by it, actually. He’ll play along, if just to see what the King is trying.
“You haven’t touched your wine,” he points out, having finished his own glass.
“Would you like it?” The Pale King asks smoothly.
“Honestly, my friend, you could have made the aphrodisiac stronger if you wished to seduce me,” he leans forward, plucking the glass from the King’s claws and soaking up the way his face falls in shock.
“The whole time,” Grimm smirks, drinking the other glass. “If you wished me to bed you, you might’ve asked.”
“It,” the Pale King’s voice is forced, faked pleasantry that is clearly waning on his patience, “is not an aphrodisiac.”
Grimm hums, tasting the wine and trying to determine the aftertaste then. It’s sweet. He can’t think of what it might be besides an aphrodisiac. He doubts how smart the Pale King claims to be but continues to play along. “You just wished me more receptive, then?”
“I was hoping you would be more open to my offers this way.”
Grimm stands, sauntering over to the Pale King and sitting on the edge of the table next to him, “As I said, your majesty , you only need ask…” He purrs.
“That is not what I meant,” he snaps angrily, his calm demeanor crumbling from one simple sentence. Oh, how Grimm revels in it.
Grimm drapes himself across the table, laying onto his back and tossing his arm over his eyes, “Oh, woe is me, what will I ever do now that the great Wyrm has rejected me?” He exclaims dramatically.
“I will have my guards escort you out.”
“You can’t let me leave, I’m drunk.”
“I know, for a fact, you are not,” the Pale King sighs, rubbing his face, “It was foolish of me for thinking I could ask you for help.”
Grimm sits up, cocking his head to the side, “It was, indeed. But you haven’t even asked, yet.”
He growls quietly in reply. When he plays the self-pity card, it’s not like someone to play along with him like that. The Pale King isn’t used to being undermined. He snatches the wine glass from the table, turning to pour himself a drink – without mixing in the herbs. His mandibles relax as he downs the glass before finally turning back to Grimm.
“What would you call yourself?” He says, still holding that air of authority and command. Grimm would sass him for thinking he could give him a command if the question itself hasn’t taken him off guard.
So Grimm blinks, “Pardon?”
“You contain the Nightmare’s power. Yet you are not controlled or lost to it.”
“Ah… A vessel?”
“How would I go about making one?”
This makes Grimm hiss, leaning forward and placing his claws on the table almost too calmly despite the flash of rage in his eyes. “You are attempting to play with things you cannot ever comprehend, Wyrm. Are you really implying you wish to contain my sister in the same way?”
“Are you saying it would not work?”
“ Never . A Higher Being must be willing to be contained.”
“Your God has no choice but to use you.”
Grimm snarls then, leaping off the table, and standing up, towering above the Pale King. He grabs him by the hem of his robes, hauling him up and slamming him against the wall. “Do you want to play this game?”
He has the audacity to smirk. “I think my stimulant is working.”
“A stimulant,” He deadpans, “Not even an aphrodisiac. Do you want me to kill you?” He can feel it, though, making all his emotions high and he has to close his eyes. It’s like he’s dreaming with how raw and frayed he feels.
“You are free to try,” the Pale King attempts to pry his claws from his robes with a hiss. Grimm drops him unceremoniously with a thud. He runs his hand across his face, turning to look at the side table cluttered with wine and herbs. He leans close, blinking before reeling back.
“This is… Damn it, wyrm! This is dream root .”
“A stimulant. I know,” he starts, tired of repeating himself, “Most smoke it but–”
Grimm spins around, closing the gap between them again with one long stride. “It’s a catalyst, used to get high, and an aphrodisiac . I know; I smoke it.”
The Pale King blinks, “It’s only an aphrodisiac in the dream realm–”
Grimm bends down, voice startling calm, “I’m literally a creature of the dream realm.”
Somewhere between then and a few more drinks and spats, the two of them end up in the bedroom. Grimm is honestly surprised they even made it that far.
He’s even more surprised that the Pale King is dragging his mandibles down his neck with his claws pressed knuckle deep into his cunt. Grimm is sprawled out on his back, arching into the touch and growling. The Pale King is still fully clothed, his sleeve pulled up carefully so not to be stained. Grimm turns his head, biting at the Pale King’s mandibles just to hear him snarl.
The noise makes Grimm’s cock jerk and he purrs, “You are far more intoxicated than me.”
“I’m not the one dripping all over my expensive bedding.”
“You are nearly fist deep in my cunt, wyrm,” he mumbles, twisting in pleasure. He attempts to hook one of his legs over the Pale King’s shoulder but he grabs just above his knee and pins it down.
“Language…” The Pale King shakes his head, fingers curling inside of Grimm who tosses his head back. His claws dig into the sheets and the smaller man has to free his second set of arms from his robes just to hold Grimm still. The Pale King pointedly ignores his cock as he moves his fingers.
“ Touch me ,” he pants harshly, thighs shaking.
“Do you honestly desire your member touched that badly?” He grumbles before he goes back to work biting and scratching Grimm’s neck. “I thought you preferred this organ.” He emphases his statement by rubbing Grimm’s gspot.
His legs kick, trying to find purchase against the silk sheets. “I would rather put both of them to use,” he growls, voice trembling.
“Are you close?” He scissors his fingers, spreading his cunt as it tightens. Grimm doesn’t answer, only turns his head to capture the Pale King in a rough kiss. It could barely even be called a kiss, as their fangs clash. His mandibles flexing and digging into Grimm’s cheeks. The Pale King’s fingers struggle to find a pace with the heated kiss and Grimm takes it upon himself to rolls his hips to finish himself off.
He cums hard. And all over the Pale King’s robes. A rush of pale pink fluid that is sure to stain. He jerks back with an animalistic snarl and Grimm laughs.
“Filthy cur!” His curses quickly descend from the common tongue and degrades to more ancient languages that only make Grimm laugh harder.
“And I thought I was dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and sits up. He moves forward fast, like a snake lurching at its prey. Grimm’s hands slip under his robes and tug them open. He switches their position fast, pinning the smaller male under him. The Pale King sputters, face flushing with rage.
“W-what do you think you’re doing?!”
“Returning the favor,” Grimm purrs, straddling his waist. He’s never seen the wyrm’s new form without robes and he takes in the pure white of his carapace with hooded eyes.
“G-get off me this instant.”
“I plan on getting you off, yes.”
The King sputters, eyes wide and face mortified. Grimm’s hands run down his chest, tracing the King’s Brand that is burned into his shell. He watches with intrigue as the Pale King shudders. He’s smaller without the robes, body thin and lithe. Two pairs of arms. He tried hard to mimic bug anatomy but there is enough things different that he just seems wrong . Like a doll with too many joints and seams. Grimm loves it, hands gliding down his sides where his torso becomes a tail, something he kept from his wyrm form. And, of course, Grimm’s hands trace his hip bones to his two erect members.
“Did you really need to give yourself two?”
The Pale King snarls, attempting to pushing Grimm away with a renewed vigor. “I’ll have you know most Higher Beings have two.”
Grimm’s thoughts flicker to the Nightmare King and he chuckles again, “Oh, trust me, I know . The more limbs the more cocks, I guess. But to me it’s just overcompensating.”
“Jealous?” He snaps back quickly.
He hums, hand wrapping around the uppermost member and squeezing. The Pale King lets out a strangled groan and his hips jerk desperately. He’s overly sensitive, twitching at every touch and Grimm can’t help but tease. “More curious to see if I can take both .”
“P-pardon?!” The Pale King stammers, face even redder.
“Have you even used this form like this before?” He runs his thumb over the already dripping tip.
“Of course I have!”
It’s a lie and Grimm knows it. He doesn’t say anything, though. Instead, he pushes both members together and wraps both of his hands around them. The Pale King is already panting, eyes squeezed shut. Grimm smirks, giving him a slow jerk from tip to base. His hips shake as he arches his back. With his eyes shut, he can’t see Grimm raise up onto his knees. By the time he feels the other man’s heat, he can’t do anything but let out a broken moan as Grimm sinks down onto both cocks at once.
Grimm tightens his jaw, slowly easing himself down. It’s...definitely one of the bigger things he taken. He rumbles in pleasure, rocking his hips slightly as he takes more, inch by inch. He’s still sensitive from just cumming and he drips steadily.
“Stop. This is foolish. You’ll hurt yourself,” The Pale King grinds out between gasps.
He meets his gaze, eyes smoldering, “I am nothing if not determined,” he smirks, “You should know that.”
The Pale King clenches his jaw, reaching a shaky hand to grab Grimm’s hip. “I am not worried about you,” he tries to backtrack, “You are loose enough from all your escapades. I just don’t want to end up with some mutt of a child.”
“Darling, I’m not in heat. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“How am I supposed to know that with how you’re act—” His words are cut off as Grimm impales himself the rest of the way with a sharp snap of his hips. The Pale King lets out a loud moan, practically leaping off the bed with how his body convulses. He cums just from the feeling of Grimm fully taking both of his cocks to the hilt, cum spurting in thick ropes and filling him. A growl vibrates through Grimm’s chest and he shows no mercy for the new King, rising up and thrusting back down. The Pale King shakes violently, claws clinging to anything, digging into Grimm’s hips and thighs and the bed. And Grimm doesn’t stop moving, forcing another orgasm to hit him hard. His tail thrashes against the bed and Grimm has to press down on him before he breaks something. He strokes his chest calmingly but doesn’t slow his movements.
“Wha-what was that?! What did you do to me?” The Pale King’s voice is distracted, eyes distant as he tries to ground himself. He feels like his heart is going to explode, his body too hot and shell too tight.
“Oh? What’s this? You’ve never had an orgasm before. Cute.” Grimm smirks, easing his pace just barely.
“Everything is much...more intense in this form…” he mumbles, mind working in overdrive as he takes in Grimm’s words. That felt nothing like he thought it should have. As a wyrm he never did anything but breed. Mating had never been...so pleasurable.
“You honor me, wyrm. Your first time was inside me . A lowly vessel to a god,” he taunts, leaning close to drag his fangs across his slender neck.
“Gods take you, harlot…” he growls, breathless.
“Mmm, one is taking me,” he rolls his hips sharply, “Or should I say, I’m taking a god .”
The Pale King tosses his head back, claws leaving marks on Grimm’s thighs and hips. He can’t make himself reply so instead just jerks his hips upwards. It’s a slick, wet sound, as his seed drips down, clinging to Grimm’s dark carapace with a nearly blinding contrast. The larger man leans forward, grabbing one of the horns of the King's crown and pulls his head up so he can watch Grimm fuck him. There is a slight bulge in his abdomen from the size of both cocks and the Pale King groans helplessly as he watches their fluids mix as Grimm raises himself up. When he slams back down, his own cock bounces with the force and the Pale King has to grit his teeth to keep from yelling in pleasure. He screws his eyes shut with a breathless hiss.
He’s so close again and he tries to chase that blinding pleasure. Grimm snaps his hips forward and then just. Stops . His head falling forward as he pants. “Calm down,” he growls, feeling the Pale King shudder under him, hips jerking up. “I’m not even close.”
“O-of course you aren’t. You just finished,” The Pale King practically whines as his cocks twitch inside of him. His vision is blurred around the edges with how close he had been but it ebbs away too fast for him to catch it.
Grimm rolls his hips down, their shells gliding and catching against each other. “So did you,” he purrs, voice harsh and demanding. “And you’re still hard too.”
“You make it very difficult not to be.” There’s blood under his claws now from gripping so hard and the smell hits Grimm hard past the scent of their fluids. He shudders, grabbing one of the Pale King’s wrists and pressing his claws into his mouth, tongue licking away his own blood. The Pale King’s breath sputters at the feeling of his hot mouth.
Grimm winks. “You flatter me.” He sucks on his fingers before dropping his wrist to hunch himself over. He starts the build up again as he fucks himself on the King’s cocks.
The Pale King tosses his head back, trying to let out an irritated growl but only a breathy groan comes out. “That is clearly not what I meant.” Grimm’s teeth dig into the wyrm’s neck just barely and he jerks back, recognizing the danger of his fangs. “Don’t you dare.”
A mating bite is the last thing he needs. The first is Grimm to hurry up and finish this and then get out of his Kingdom.
“You have so much Soul… you should share some…” Grimm’s voice is husky and his eyes are red slits in the dark. He’s...different. Almost primal now as he grinds himself down slowly. The Pale King suddenly remembers what he used to spike his drink. Dreamroot is use to heighten the senses, so you feel more like you would in the Dream Realm. It’s literally used to bridge the gap between dreaming and waking.
“Get a hold of yourself, Nightmare King,” he grits his teeth, pushing on his chest hard.
He purrs, gravely and hoarse as he sits back up, rocking his hips. A low groan leaves the smaller man and Grimm’s fingers wrap around the Pale King’s throat lightly. “How does it feel to be graced by the presence of a real king?”
The wyrm snarls but the sound is abruptly cut off by a squeeze to his throat. His cocks twitch and Grimm’s eyes narrow, smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. He pulls himself up, cocks nearly completely leaving him and he wraps his free hand around the base of both of them. He removes his hand from the Pale King’s throat, dragging his claws down his chest before he grasps his own cock.
“Watch closely, now, if you want to learn how to please me.”
The Pale King’s throat is dry and his cocks ache . With one hand still tightly wrapped around the base, Grimm lowers himself down, taking back in both of the members. He strokes his own erection in the same slow pace. He doesn’t speed up, he doesn’t falter. The Pale King can’t look away but his whole body trembles as he watches Grimm’s precum drip down and join the other mess of fluids in his lap.
“Faster…” At first he doesn’t recognize his own voice but Grimm tilts his head to the side just slightly. He pumps his hand around his own member with a renewed vigor, but stays still on the King’s cocks. The only feeling is Grimm’s walls clenching. The Pale King lets out a weak groan, annoyed and still close enough that it hurts. His cocks twitch inside of the other man as his breathing speeds up, moaning softly as he jerks himself off. The wyrm leaves more claw marks on his shell, trying to move but finding he’s unable to. He just shudders under Grimm’s gaze.
He’s not even sure he’s in the waking realm at this point.
Grimm’s cunt tightens and the Pale King sees stars. He wiggles his hips just barely, desperate for friction. He nearly cums just from that, but Grimm squeezes the base of his cocks, hard, preventing him from reaching his peak. The look on the King’s face, however, lets Grimm reach his. He arches his back, cunt spasming as he releases himself all over the Pale King’s chest. He curses, tail thumping the bed in pure agitation. Grimm gives out a low sigh, finally removing his hold so that he can take him down to the hilt. He’s sensitive, hips rocking and cunt twitching.
Grimm pulls himself back up and the Pale King opens his mouth to spit out some rude remark. It’s cut off abruptly when Grimm slams back down. He moves his whole body like he’s dancing while fucking the Pale King. He’s able to match his pace of his thrusts to the rhythm of the Pale King’s erratic heartbeat. The wyrm can’t do anything but moan and when he twists his eyes shut, Grimm reaches back to pet the slit under his cocks.
The Pale King jerks upright, hands leaving Grimm’s body to support himself as he shakes. Grimm hums at the reaction, fingers slick with their mixed cum and runs his thumb over the entrance again. The Pale King’s jaw tightens and his cocks swell. He wants to spit obscenities at Grimm but he can’t find his voice. One of Grimm’s talons dip into his slit and a needy whine escapes the Pale King.
“Won’t you bless me again, your majesty?” He punctuates the sentence by sliding his ring finger in to the knuckle. He crooks his finger just barely, hips rolling forward. The Pale King practically screams as he comes undone, finally allowed the orgasm he had been chasing.
And Grimm teleports off of him, leaving him to spill his seed all over himself. He can’t even move with how his body convulses from the pleasure and his vision goes white.
The last thing he hears is Grimm’s voice, “Just remember, I’m waiting for you to fail.”