crowspace | God/Priest Shipping Meme

[He knows.

That's the first thought that crosses his mind, the realization that his God has definitely caught on to his curious, potentially sinful thoughts, quickly followed by the self-criticizing Well obviously. It was stupid to think I could ever hide anything from him.

He almost opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it again momentarily at the reminder of it being a sin to tell lies. Not that he had been planning to do so, because it would be shameful to lie to the being he has devoted himself to. The shame of that would kill him first before the shame of admitting to anything. But it's still daunting, nonetheless.

So he sucks in a breath and licks his own lips to escape the suddenly dry feeling in his mouth, trying not to let the hand at his chin be too distracting to where he can't answer clearly when he finally responds.]

You already have my devotion, my loyalty, my blood...

[My thoughts. My heart. My love. crosses his mind, but he doesn't add it on. Not because it isn't true, but because such soft sentementality was not fitting for this, for them. Even he can't help feel its too tacky to phrase it that way, so instead he says--]

... and anything else of my body and soul that you wish. I would be happy to give it to you.

[There. That should sound proper and not like... like some pervert begging to be defiled in some manner, as some of the other followers who weren't fond of Manjoume might have seen it as were they around to hear him.]

[The other followers' opinions don't matter nearly as much as his god's, and his god thinks a little begging wouldn't be so bad. Still-]

Good answer.

[That's all the warning Manjoume gets before Camazotz brings their lips together.

Camazotz kisses fiercely, like everything else he does. He's not rough, but he does lay a claim to Manjoume's mouth, and that tongue is absolutely just as long as it looks and pierced in three places. Camazotz's wings curl around them both, sheltering Manjoume from view if any other follower were to walk in here.]

[Manjoume has never been kissed before, so for a second he's not sure what to do except keep his mouth pliant so that his God can press his tongue against his own tongue. Whatever he lacks in experience he at least makes up for in enthusiasm, as any attempt he had at being quiet before fails entirely as he can't help the whimper he makes at the sensation of each piercing brushing against the inside of his mouth.

Keep kissing him like and you'll definitely get your wish granted for him begging for more, he thinks, as Manjoume lets go of the broom so that that he can instead carefully bring his hands up to grasp at the other's wrists, something of the other he can cling to for support to remain standing. Before he had closed his eyes, he had noticed the wings curl around him, and it somehow makes the whole experience feel even better, he thinks. Like this he can ignore that there is a world outside of the two of them right now.

He will eventually need to, you know, breathe and hes not quite sure how to do that yet while being kissed but he isn't about to pull away before the other has given him permission to do so yet...]

[Camazotz is a merciful god, at least when it comes to those he favors. He'll pull away before Manjoume entirely runs out of breath, tongue lolling to the side.]

Your blood tastes sweeter, but this is pleasing to me as well.

[He's standing quite close. And is still only in a loincloth, as usual.]

Really?

[That's the word that manages to slip out once Manjoume catches his breath again, face undoubtedly pink from embarrassment and arousal, and perhaps a little wonder that even after being someone chosen to be able to perceive Camazotz presence, that he'd even be honored with this much at all.

Manjoume by comparison is dressed far more formally in the uniform-like attire of the priests that belong to his sect, but it feels far more stuffier than usual, an uncomfortable heat burning under the skin not being helped by all the layers overtop. But Manjoume doesn't make any moves to adjust his collar or something to try to alleviate it, his hands still not having left his God's wrists just yet. Like as if the moment he lets go, this moment will disappear and he'll be alone in the room again with just himself and the cleaning supplies.]

Would your god lie to you?

[If he says it, it is divine truth. To say otherwise is sacrilege.

Camazotz goes in for another kiss, just as deep and demanding as the first one. This time he presses more of his body flush to Manjoume's, body heat doing nothing to help that burning feeling. He's not sorry at all.]

Ah--

[He's about to apologize for having potentially insinuated that Camazotz would ever tell lies, but then the god is claiming his lips again, muffling his words before he can speak. More of the other man than he has ever felt before is pressed up against him, and even despite the difference between the number of layers both of them are wearing, he wonders for a dizzying second if Camazotz can feel what kind of effect they're having on him the longer they keep kissing like this.

Then again, that's almost nothing in comparison to the fact that the other man doesn't have nearly as many layers as he does to hide such things. And while Manjoume would never dare be so disrespectful to let his eyes wander anywhere other than the other's face (and sometimes bare chest...) when they spoke, now he's very suddenly reminded of that fact and can't help but wonder if he were to glance down: Is he having the same effect on Camazotz that the other inspires in him...?]

[Manjoume doesn't need to look. The loincloth is thin, and Camazotz is not a small man by any means. His arousal can clearly be felt against him.

Once again they part to let Manjoume breathe, and this time Camazotz takes one of Manjoume's hands and places it on his chest.]

You may worship as you see fit. You need not hold back.

[This is just another form of worship, after all, isn't it?]

[Oh... now that he's been given permission to touch further, he wastes no time in doing so, carefully tracing the tips of his fingers against the other's bare skin. His touch is curious, though not quite with the intent of attempting to arouse, as Camazotz will be able to quickly tell: it's more like an affectionate sort of wonderment at being able to finally touch someone for himself.

He is however paying some amount of attention, watching for any signs that he's causing discomfort based on location and pressure he provides while moving his fingers over Camazotz chest, as well as what seems to be the most pleasing to his God so that he can focus more on that area as he speaks up.]

Are these muscles from your numerous accomplishments, or does it just come with the territory for being a God, to appear so strong like this...

[Camazotz is, at the very least, not shy about encouragement. He sighs in pleasure when Manjoume presses a bit more firmly.]

They are a record of my great deeds as a king.

[Manjoume nods, not at all surprised to hear that. There have been many stories of the God that's been told here among his followers, which are among the few things that Manjoume likes to actually pay attention to the most.]

They're amazing... I kind of wish I had more muscles like this myself.

[But Manjoume is probably the most pale twink here at this place, despite all attempts at trying to be anything else otherwise.]

You are not a warrior. There is nothing shameful in your body. In fact, it pleases me greatly.

[...And he'll demonstrate this by squeezing Manjoume's ass.]

[Manjoume honest to god squeaks and jumps slightly, face burning hotter than ever at the sudden squeeze to his ass.]

I, ah... th--thank you?

[He's so embarrassed and overwhelmed... but he likes the attention being given to his own body here. He likes having the others hands at his waist, even against his ass feeling him up here...

... Geez, maybe he is a pervert after all.]

[That reaction is too cute. Camazotz can't resist doing it again.]

Enjoying yourself?

[As Camazotz does it again, Manjoume ends up leaning harder against Camazotz here in response, hands gripping the other as if trying to find some kind of support to hide his face from view. He nods rather than attempting to answer with words.

He's pretty sure he wouldn't really have any good words to use if he tried anyway, it would probably just be awkward sounds if Manjoume used his voice right now anyway, because if he wasn't already hard before, he definitely is now by this point.]

[Oh, Camazotz has noticed, and it makes his grin widen. The hand that was squeezing his backside snakes around to his front, shamelessly rubbing.]

Offer your voice to me. Hold nothing back.

[Sure enough, he does let out a very loud moan in response to the hand rubbing the fabric against his cock, albeit he is quick to slap a hand over his own mouth and glance at the door.]

But--But what about, um, the rest of the people in the building right now? I don't want them to hear me.

You care more for their opinion than mine?

[Answer carefully.]

No, of course not!

[He almost, almost, manages to look offended that you'd even suggest that, sir.]

It's just that I, ah... don't want people finding and interrupting us when this is supposed to be our time alone together, you know?

[Sure, it would be kind of hilarious if someone did show up and their reaction was jealousy that someone like Manjoume was chosen by their God over anyone else, but... he can't deny that he's also a little selfish, and he wants to feel special. Like what they have is just for them and no one else's to get to witness or attempt to interfere in.]

Tch.

[A reasonable thing to do would be to let Manjoume be a bit quieter, or go over and lock the door. Camazotz waves a hand, and a stone pillar erupts from the floor to block the only exit from the room.

There. Now no one can interrupt them.]

[Well then. Manjoume can't help but stare a fair bit between the pillar, then Camazotz, then back at the pillar again.]

That's certainly one way to take care of things.

[... But it would be an absolute lie to say that it wasn't rad as hell to watch Camazotz do that, let's be real. He is very impressed.]

Have you any more complaints?

[Or can he get on with the ravishing now.]

... No, sir.

[Said sheepishly, gaze a little downcast. He can't help but feel like he might have disappointed his God in some way for being so concerned about what likely seems like a trivial matter to them.]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining.

Worry not. Your shyness is cute in its own way.

[It's definitely shyness that makes him not want to be witnessed, right? Right.

Now that they have that out of the way, Camazotz goes back to stroking Manjoume through his pants, grinning wickedly at every noise he can coax from him.]

[Camazotz's hands are on him again before he can potentially make a snooty remark on that comment about him being shy or cute. And honestly, a part of him appreciates that, because Manjoume is eager to get back to worshipping his God and vice versa.

As such, Manjoume takes a breath before he reaches his own hand forward to carefully touch Camazotz as well--he doesn't move his hand under the loincloth yet, but gingerly tries to feel the shape of Camazotz's cock through the fabric, attempting to copy the same pattern of movement and grip that Camazotz has above his own pants here.

One thing he is learning very quickly for certain is that Camazotz feels a lot bigger than he'd judge his own cock, which earns a very immediate flush of red up to his ears as he quickly glances up at the other's face to check and make sure that he's not doing a piss poor job at this.]

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