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Kun nervously walks up to the altar, the ornate goblet clutched in one hand, his offering in the other. The temple is disconcerting when empty, the room so quiet that Kun can hear the wind whistling outside. There’s usually a crowd bustling about to pay their respects, but Kun has taken the liberty of visiting in the dead of night of late, a time in which he can be alone with his thoughts amongst other things.

He kneels carefully, folding his legs beneath him, and places the silver goblet in front of him, uncorking the jug he’s brought, pouring until the brim and making sure not to spill.

Kun closes his eyes, clasps his hands in his lap, and waits.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“Qian Kun, you’ve come to see me again?”

He takes a shaky breath, trying to calm his pounding heartbeat, though he knows it’s a useless venture, before opening his eyes.

There’s a teasing lilt to the voice that wholly matches the playful expression of the boy sitting cross legged in only loose trousers across from him, and Kun shudders as the godling stares at him intently. It makes Kun feel utterly exposed, as if he can see into the depths of his soul, know everything that makes up his core.

“It hasn’t been very long since your last visit.”

Kun tries not to stare at the crescent moon adorning the godling’s chest. He had only seen it once before, when he was very young, the first time he had encountered the godling after having gotten lost in one of the fields, unable to find his way back home. He had never told anyone about what he’d seen, kept the memory hidden away and close to his chest, only sometimes thinking back upon it whenever he spotted a crooked moon in the night sky.

A perfect arc that belied a scar, a mark bestowed upon a lesser god.

His voice wavers as he speaks.

“You told me last time we met—” Kun stammers, suddenly embarrassed, wondering if he has gotten everything wrong. “—you said to bring you an offering if I wanted to win your favor.”

“This is your offering?”

Kun had put much thought into what he could bring to possibly satisfy a godling, agonizing at length over his decision.

“It’s wine. Made from the first grapes of harvest, aged over time.”

The godling doesn’t make any move to acknowledge his words.

“I took some secretly— for you to try.” Kun continues nervously. “The first taste.”

At this, the godling appears to take interest, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

“A sip of forbidden nectar?”

Kun watches as the godling picks up the goblet, his fingers cradling the base of the cup delicately and raising the drink to his lips. And he startles when their eyes meet, realizing that the godling has not shifted his gaze away the entire time, steadily observing Kun.

He unconsciously swallows as the godling takes a sip.

The godling’s expression doesn’t change as he finishes, lips stained wine red, teeth glinting with the hint of a smile.

“You haven’t had a taste yet?”

Kun shakes his head, unable to decipher the godling’s inscrutable expression, the nerves making the taste of bile scratch at the back of his throat, the uncertainty at whether he had severely misstepped.

“Open your mouth.”

He does hesitantly, the sting of anticipation curling in his gut.

The godling wets his fingers, dipping two into the jar before bringing them slowly to Kun’s mouth and sliding them over his tongue. Kun shivers from the cold heaviness in his mouth, the taste of a sweet smoothness, a slightly bitter aftertaste. He tries not to breathe or do anything that might be interpreted as an offense, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he feels the slow drag of the godling’s fingers out of his mouth, trailing a wet path as he grazes Kun’s jaw with his fingertips.

“How does it taste?”

Sweet as sin.

He’s not sure whether he’s said it aloud or just mouthed the word, but the godling reacts as if he knows what Kun is thinking all the same.

Kun gasps as the godling tilts his chin up to peer down at him, his hold tight, thumb at the underside of his jaw, brushing over his throat.

“Did you have the chance to fully savor the taste?”

He ducks his head in a half nod, and the godling’s mouth tightens into a displeased line, thumb swiping at his lower lip, murmuring.

“Pity, I was hoping you’d say no.”

“No.”

Kun croaks the word out, surprising himself at his quick wit in the face of his blatant reverence for the godling. He’s rewarded with an impish smile, a glimmer of mischievousness in the godling’s eyes.

“Very well.”

The godling doesn’t break his stare as he brings the wine jug to his mouth yet again, taking another drink, and Kun feels his chest tighten in anticipation as it dawns on him what will happen next, the godling’s cheeks puffed out slightly from the mouthful of wine.

Kun groans into the blessing.

The wine is sweet, but the godling tastes sharp over his tongue, licking his way into Kun’s mouth, lips pressed hungrily into his.

The kiss is dizzying, his first.

Kun lets the godling lead him, kiss him until he’s satisfied and breathless, the godling making a noise of delight as Kun tentatively kisses him back, chasing the bitter aftertaste of wine in the godling’s mouth.

He whimpers at the stab of pain when the godling bites his lower lip, not quite hard enough to draw blood but certainly to bruise tomorrow morning, and Kun finds himself scrabbling for purchase, hesitantly digging his nails into the godling’s lower back, unsure of whether he has the right to touch him.

Delectable.

The godling breathes the word into him.

Kun blinks rapidly, trying to clear his head from the daze, surfacing back to the godling gazing at him in outright amusement and what Kun hopes is a hint of fondness.

He’s so busy staring at the godling that he doesn’t feel that hand trailing down his body until the godling is already loosely palming his cock through his trousers, the heel of the godling’s hand flush up against him.

Kun blushes, heat rising in his face, as he realizes he’s already hard.

“Tell me what you came here for.”

The demand pins Kun down, makes his skin flush with the intensity in which he’s being examined, and it makes him shrink a little, any boldness he had a moment before vanishing under the godling’s attention.

“To pray for a good harvest.”

“I see.”

It’s not entirely untrue.

Kun does want a plentiful harvest after a harsh late winter, but it’s not the sole reason why he comes to kneel before this particular godling when there are other gods’ altars he could frequent, ones perhaps more influential and wielding greater power. And it certainly doesn’t explain why he feels the need to visit when no one’s watching, at a time he can at least blunt the guilt of coveting something he has no right to want.

How he can count the number of times he’s outright seen the godling in the flesh on one hand in his twenty one years, yet still feels drawn to the godling, to his altar, more than any of his peers in the village. How the godling appears in his dreams so vividly that he has woken up on multiple occasions with his cock leaking a wet stain onto his underwear. How he has no desire for anyone else, everyone seemingly uninteresting next to the draw of the godling.

“Tell me what you really want, Qian Kun.”

What he really wants.

Kun struggles to put it in words.

“You.”

Simply put.

The godling smirks at him with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer that would be given, the knowledge that of course Kun wants him because undeniably everyone does.

So why should Kun be any different?

“May I know your name?”

“Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.”

The godling’s grin widens.

“But you can call me Ten.”

 

 

Kun tries not to squirm, sure that Ten can feel the tremble in his legs, the weight of Ten’s hands grasping at his hips, thumb caressing soft circles over his inner thigh.

There’s a certain measure of discomfort in having their positions switched.

A godling shouldn’t be on his knees.

Kun moans as Ten presses his face up against him, head in between his legs, tip of his nose cold and nudging a trail closer towards his cock, tongue following dutifully, leaving behind a smeared mess over his inner thigh.

“Wait— I—” Kun scrabbles at the top of Ten’s head, tugging at the godling’s hair, panic overtaking him as he feels himself grow hard at the sight of his cock disappearing inside Ten’s mouth in one fluid motion, nervous at the thought of expectation. “—please stop, Ten.”

Ten stills, and Kun follows suit, the image of Ten looking up at him from the ground, eyes wide, lips parted and dewy and spit slicked mixed with Kun’s precum robbing him of the words he was about to say, mind going blank.

A sudden shyness comes over him, the reality of his situation washing over him, the utter madness of having Ten to himself so intimately close.

Undeserving.

Even as he so badly wants.

“I’ve never—” Kun wrestles with a way to phrase his inexperience eloquently. “—been with another.”

He pauses, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Ten’s smile is predatory.

“I can teach you.”

The arousal hits him full force as Ten swallows his cock again, and Kun twists his fingers into Ten’s hair as Ten continues, eyes fluttering closed, blinded to everything except for the wet noises Ten makes as the godling blows him, groaning when he feels his cock nudging at the back of Ten’s throat.

His hips snap forward unthinkingly, hands pressing at the back of Ten’s head, tugging at his hair, and Ten lets him thrust shallowly into his mouth in wanton desperation, already feeling as if he’s going to finish, embarrassed at how quick it all seems.

Until Ten pulls himself off.

Kun’s cock slides out with a wet plop, and he whines at the loss of being in Ten’s warm mouth.

“I can’t let you finish before you pleasure me.”

It takes him a few moments to register that Ten has come back with something.

A small jar cradled in his palms.

“I must prepare myself for you.”

Kun accepts the jar that Ten places in his hands, a tingle running through him at the touch of Ten trailing fingers over his palm, cupping Kun’s hands within his own, delicate and with a hands width slightly smaller than Kun’s.

“You have beautiful hands. And fingers.”

Ten murmurs, thumb rubbing at the small of his wrist, and Kun lets out a small sigh, the thought of his hands over every inch of Ten’s bare skin consuming him in a flood.

“Sit. Hold this. And watch me carefully.”

He obeys, though not sure what to expect as he takes a seat, letting Ten open the small jar, placing the cover carefully upside down on the ground. Then Ten dips his fingers into the jar, too dark for Kun to see what’s inside, but he can smell the fragrance all the same.

The heady scent of jasmine.

Ten’s fingers glisten with oil as he pulls them out.

Kun stops breathing when Ten turns away from him, deftly sliding his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers to pull them down before crouching in front of him on his hands and knees, the curve of the godling’s back in a gentle half moon slope like a stretching cat as Ten’s ass arches high in the air.

His cock twitches as Ten slowly spreads himself apart, catching his first glimpse of Ten’s hole, pink and budding, before the godling slips his finger in, easily sliding in down to the last knuckle.

The low moan echoes in the empty space.

Kun knows in the back of his mind that it can’t possibly be Ten’s first time, but he isn’t prepared for how quickly Ten throws himself into being pleasured, his second finger following his first almost immediately. And Kun watches as Ten dissolves into a whimpering mess, the third finger only slowing him down momentarily as he works himself open, the whines mixing with the wet sloppy noises of Ten fingering himself going straight to Kun’s cock.

He’s already unbearably hard before Ten stops, hands balled into fists, his nails digging crescents into his palms as he resists the urge to touch himself, sure that Ten has other plans.

It doesn’t help that Ten looks so inviting as he removes his fingers, leaving his hole gaping, clenching at nothing in its desire to be filled again, rim slick and shiny from the leftover oil.

“Come help me, Qian Kun.”

Kun fumbles nervously as he starts, groaning as he feels Ten’s hole greedily suck his fingers in, if possible, even wetter and warmer than Ten’s mouth, fascinated at seeing his finger vanishing inside the godling, his other hand groping at Ten’s ass, roaming over the backs of his thighs, his hands width able to grasp Ten in his entirety.

“M-more.”

Ten whines needily, and Kun inwardly disappointed with himself for his lack of awareness. After all, Ten had been filling himself with three fingers just a moment before.

Kun stops halfway as he tries sliding three fingers into Ten, the sudden tightness making him afraid that he’ll hurt the godling, but the protests come readily.

“Don’t s-stop. P-please fuck me. Harder. M-more.”

He tries his best to oblige, unsure of whether he’s doing it correctly at all, buoyed by Ten’s short breathy moans as he quickens the thrust of his fingers into him, Ten’s hole clenching around him as Kun tries to discover the best way to give the godling pleasure, curling and stretching his fingers inside Ten and pressing against his walls.

Ten lets out a sob of relief, and Kun can feel Ten’s legs trembling with the effort of keeping himself in one position for so long as Kun continues, his fingers insistently stroking over the spot that draws out the loudest sounds from Ten.

It isn’t long before Ten tenses up more, tightening around his fingers, keening as he finishes all over the floor, Kun admiring the closer view of Ten’s hole, pretty and pink.

Kun isn’t sure what overtakes him.

Maybe it’s the overpowering scent of jasmine.

But it’s worth hearing Ten’s surprised yelp and renewed whimpers as he awkwardly presses his face into Ten, tasting how wet and flowery the godling is, tongue tracing the rim of Ten’s hole before shallowly fucking into him.

Ten tastes heavenly.

Kun steadies Ten’s hips as he feels the godling slipping down to the floor, tongue feeling unwieldy and uncooperative as he tries not to leave behind too much excess spit while licking at Ten’s essence.

“Wait, stop, let me—”

Kun stops somewhat reluctantly when he hears Ten’s plea, the godling looking somewhat disheveled and breathless as Ten turns to face Kun, skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat, chest heaving. And Kun is reminded again of how utterly beautiful he finds Ten, the moonlight glinting off Ten’s mark.

“Take off your clothes.”

The order sends a shiver of anticipation through Kun, heated adrenaline through his blood, and he clumsily heeds Ten’s words, not able to rid himself of his clothing fast enough for his liking.

It’s a different view with Ten perched above him, the godling straddling his waist, legs spread apart, the weight of Ten on top of him making him grow hard again, his cock slotted between Ten’s ass cheeks, with even the barest contact pooling the arousal in his groin.

He had almost forgotten about himself, too focused on pleasing Ten to really be aware of his own bottomless desire, but it’s returned now, and Kun can feel his skin crawling with the need to release, his hips canting upwards, letting out a pitiful whine as Ten doesn’t budge, the godling staring down at him impassively.

“P-please, Ten.”

Kun doesn’t know what else to do but beg.

And it seems to satisfy Ten, the corners of Ten’s lips upturning slightly, and Kun braces himself as Ten grasps at his shoulders, fingers running over his collarbones.

Ten lowers himself slowly down onto Kun, hand reaching behind his back to grab at the base of Kun’s cock to guide it to his hole, hissing as he takes his seat.

Kun makes the mistake of thinking everything else will happen slowly.

It doesn’t.

Kun can’t do anything but grip at Ten’s waist as the godling rides him, the pleasure of being inside of Ten’s tight hole leaving him in indescribable rapture, watching as Ten throws his head back in the throes of gratification, gazing at Ten’s neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he dryly swallows, at all the sharp lines that paint Ten in his mind at night in his dreams.

Ten gasps as he reaches upwards to trace the godling’s mark, thumb brushing over Ten’s hardened nipples, and Kun delights in the sharp whimper Ten lets out when he rolls the nub between his fingers, pinching hard.

“Kun.”

Ten moans his name.

All formality gone, replaced instead with a shameless intimacy.

Kun finishes inside of Ten to the sound of Ten repeating his name with debauched abandon, the godling continuing to fuck himself on Kun’s cock until Kun is sensitive and raw, entirely spent, spilling for the second time all over Kun’s stomach.

Ten doesn’t rise immediately, instead choosing to lie forward with Kun still filling him, lips at the crook of Kun’s neck, whispered words in the shell of Kun’s ear.

“Next time, come take exactly what you want, Qian Kun.”

“I’ll be waiting.”