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It came to Ghost's attention one day that Grimm often slept around with just about any bug, prior to settling down with Ghost.
They don't remember how the conversation started, but they distinctly remember how casually Grimm mentioned having numerous partners in the past. Apparently, h e had a very active sex life; had numerous one night stands and dalliances with summoners and the friends of those summoners (sometimes all at once). He mentioned he even delved quite deeply into various kinks with anyone interested, including the Grimm Troupe—"As one does when faced with what is basically immortality and occasional, crippling existentialism," so he said.
Immediately, Ghost was concerned. They have never had sex with Grimm, on account of them not having genitals to play around with, and it simply never crossed their mind. They were a little frantic in their signing. They kept asking if Grimm's needs weren't being met and if he needed, they didn't mind if their relationship was more open or outright polyamorous. Ghost wouldn't mind who Grimm chose to bed, even if it was Zote.
Grimm had laughed, pinching their arm fondly. "Dear, I don't mind. Sex is not important to me, and Zote is very much not my type. If anything, he is the opposite of my type, actually."
That was that. Mostly.
Ghost never forgot it. Had grown curious about it, even. Specifically, they wondered if they could replicate it—if they can experience sex, too. Was Void simply just meant to be inert, sterile, inherently sexless, no matter what? Void is limitless potential, so surely it would be possible?
They started doing their own research, delving into the depths of Hallownest for some kind of sex education, but found nothing but erotica (only slightly helpful, and even they know it's not accurate) and some biological text that was a little too clinical. Useful at least for getting some terminology, and also figuring out erogenous zones, at least broadly—biological differences between bugs varied wildly, it seemed.
Then, they swallowed their pride and asked some of their friends; particularly the coupled ones, like Iselda and Cornifer. And while they received the basics—such as foreplay being necessary, but also sometimes not, which is a sentiment that confuses Ghost—they didn't get much more detail beyond that. To no one's surprise, most of the people Ghost asked were cagey about the details, but understanding overall that Ghost is coming from the perspective of someone literally asexual.
Ghost eventually grew desperate and asked Hornet (they assumed, correctly, that Hallow would not know anything), and she merely said, "Ask your partner, Ghost. It seems he's explored himself and others enough to answer all your questions and not be embarrassed about it."
They didn’t know how to explain that they kind of wanted to surprise Grimm. Maybe they would follow one of the erotica novels they found in the Tower of Love and wrap themselves in ribbon on the anniversary of their union. But, it was true they weren’t exactly getting anywhere. They might as well.
When they told Grimm they wanted to learn, the first thing he said was, "Ghost, I don't need sex, I promise." But when Ghost explained that they were curious, he then said, "Well, I can certainly teach you about my body and the bodies of some of the species I’ve slept with, but not so much how sex would work with Void."
They weren't expecting him to be able to. But they were hoping maybe they could… discover together. If Ghost had the capacity. If that's alright.
Grimm laughed again, delighted. "Of course we can."
And so, here they are.
Ghost lies naked on the bed, feeling incredibly vulnerable but in a way they're surprisingly okay with. They settle further into the pillows Grimm arranged for them, making sure their neck is properly supported and gives space for their horns. Grimm, meanwhile, is taking off his own clothes and setting it aside with their cloak. When he's done, he approaches Ghost's side and deftly slides on top of them. He gets comfortable on Ghost's hips, and they get the fleeting sense that this is supposed to arouse them—whatever that feels like.
"So," Grimm says, "how do we do this, Ghost?"
They sign. I was hoping you would know.
He hums, bringing a hand to his chin in thought. His scarlet eyes squint, and he looks at Ghost's body, his eyes trailing over every inch. Ghost remembers a line from the erotica they read—"his eyes smoldered with desire"—and figures that that is not what Grimm's gaze is saying. If Ghost had to guess, his gaze was more along the lines of academic study.
They tap Grimm's thigh to get his attention. Do I not arouse you?
Grimm shifts again, but this time he leans over and presses a soft kiss to the muzzle of Ghost's shell. "Don't worry about it."
I'm a little worried about it.
"It's not you. You are absolutely dashing all the time, my love. But I suppose I should explain, to ease you." He leans back, getting comfortable again. "I don't feel sexual attraction to others, but over the centuries I've been alive, I've become interested in the act. It's a fair way to pass the time—and quick, too. With the old ways of the Ritual, I hardly had room in the day to do anything else. If I slept with a bug, it was out of boredom or stress, on my end."
Ghost stares, a little in shock. They weren't expecting that. All the bugs they talked to, and all the literature they read, sex was always mixed with either romantic love, pure lust, or both. Seeing it as "just another thing to pass the time" didn't even cross their mind.
Seemingly aware of this, Grimm manages a soft chuckle. "My disposition towards sex isn't quite seen as the norm, so it's not surprising you've never heard of it."
How do you get anything out of it then? How does it feel good for you? Isn't the emotional aspect necessary?
Clearly amused, Grimm indulges them. "Not really. I wouldn't even say lust is much of an emotion, so much as it is a biological function of sorts—although that's debatable. As for me, my body has been molded to the visage of mortal bugs. This includes genitalia, although over the years I've grown partial to a blend of insect and mammal physiology. Here, let me show you."
Grimm leans back further, his hand going between his legs, digits splayed. "It's rare in insects, so I've been told, but I possess genitals from both sexes. Both are hidden by a chitin covering, but…" his fingers slip underneath the chitin and pry it open. And ah, there—the vulva, which sinks into his gonopore, as well as something above it that looks like a tight, circular entrance covered by chitin petals—like a small flower bud. The aedeagus would emerge from that, if Ghost is processing this correctly.
They point out his anatomy with the terms, spelling it out with their hands, and Grimm smiles wide. "That's correct, yes. However, I don't have the actual reproductive parts. You could say I just have the pleasure parts, which is all I really needed. If the Heart had its way, I wouldn't have anything, but we made a compromise."
Ghost tilts their head, and Grimm's smile turns thin.
"My job before you started helping me was very draining. Sex, at least, made me feel alive for a while."
He brightens suddenly, and he presses a kiss to their muzzle again.
"I don't have to worry about that with you, though. I feel much more alive doing laundry with you than all of my kinkiest escapades put together."
Ghost wraps their arms around him in an effort to comfort him, even if he very likely doesn't need it. He returns the gesture, pressing a soft kiss to their neck. For a moment, they just bask in the intimacy, naked bodies pressed together and nothing else. Ghost wouldn't mind if they just fell asleep like this.
But Grimm always follows through with what is asked of him. He pulls away and pats the side of Ghost's shell. "Okay, enough about me. This is about you. Lie back again, I'm going to figure this out."
We don't have to.
"I'm aware. But you want to, right?" Grimm shimmies lower, settling between their legs instead. "And I want to. I don't care for sex but I wouldn't refuse it, especially if it were with you."
He doesn't wait for a response. His hand goes between Ghost's legs, which has nothing but smooth carapace. His fingers start feeling for something, but Ghost knows for a fact there's nothing there. The only dips they have down there are where their thighs connect to their hips, attached by ball joints. They also tried, maybe with some level of desperation, to see if there was some pleasure to be had there only to find none.
Grimm pulls back, humming again. His head tilts, eyes still trained at Ghost's blank groin, and then his eyes roam. He seems to be looking for something. Ghost lets him, though they start feeling a little awkward not doing anything, so they place their hands on his thighs, squeezing slightly, noting how their hand covers most of it.
Again, Grimm looks amused. "Feeling awkward?"
Ghost nods.
"That's a good place to keep your hands on. Many find this arousing, too." He taps Ghost's hand. "They say the size of one's hand correlates with the thickness of their aedeagus, though in my experience it's just coincidental at best."
Ghost removes their hands only to quip. I guess I'm further contradicting evidence. Since I don't have any.
"I'm sure you could make one, if you like, although I'm unsure if you can recreate the nerve endings necessary to actually feel pleasure." He tilts his head again. "I must admit, I'm at a loss."
We can stop.
"Do you want to?"
They pause and take stock of themselves. They don't want to stop, no, but they also don't like lying here, not doing anything or feeling anything. Maybe they do feel a little bit ashamed that they're asking this of Grimm—and maybe they're also angry at their parents. Unlike Grimm, Ghost can't drag the Wyrm from the grave and demand nerve endings (probably), and their mother wouldn't approve even if she had the capacity to grant Ghost what they wanted (most likely).
Not knowing what else to say, they sign as such. Grimm crawls forward and presses their foreheads together, like Ghost often does with him when he's in his early stages of growth again. It's one of the ways they've both shown each other comfort, and Ghost's hands immediately find his face.
"I can't deny, I'm always extremely fucking enraged at your parents. At least the Heart knows when it's lost, unlike the worm, and has the decency to accept you for making me happy, unlike the root." He pauses, rubbing his nose against their muzzle. "It must be frustrating, to be made incapable of feeling things physically. At the very least, I can assure you that you're not missing much when it comes to sex."
Ghost lightly pushes Grimm back to sign with their hands. Maybe you can teach me how to make you feel good.
"Ah."
Grimm gets a bit of a look Ghost can't pin down. Something between awkward and sympathetic, but Ghost doesn't have long to figure it out. Grimm looks away and hides the lower half of his face before they can, but the lengthy silence is enough.
If you don't want—
He stills their hands. "Shh. It's okay."
They tilt their head, as if to ask, "is it?"
"Yes. I promise." He gives a small smile as he lets go of their hands. "Ninety-nine percent of the time, I'm the top, and I don't usually allow my partners to touch me very much. But you're always an exception to me." His smile turns loving and fond. "I don't like the vulnerability, but I don't mind nearly as much if it's with you."
With that, he crawls back up and settles on Ghost's hips, legs on either side. Then, he leans back, the limbs he usually keeps folded stretched out to prop him up. Ghost holds his thighs again, this time squeezing both lightly in an effort to reassure him.
"Okay." He takes in a breath to steady his nerves. "Okay, I'll show you how I get myself off. And then you do it, okay?"
Ghost nods.
The chitin that he pried opened earlier had closed again, like an eye. He massages himself, fingers running up and down his slit until the layered chitin covering blooms open, at which point he runs his fingers over his entrance, rubbing it until he can slip two digits inside. All the while, Grimm is explaining as he demonstrates, voice completely steady.
Ghost watches, enraptured. Arousal starts coming out of him and suddenly Ghost feels something stir within them. They don't know what it is, but it tells them to touch, instead.
They don't hesitate, but they're at least gentle. With little warning, they brush their fingertips against his slit—
Immediately, they recoil, and Grimm startles too. A shiver wracks up their entire body, and the feeling inside them strengthens, almost overwhelming them. They can't figure out what it is they're feeling, but it makes them tense up and desperate to touch more.
"Ghost?"
They don't answer, simply reaching for Grimm's slit again, brushing their fingers over it, lightly dipping between his folds. They suppress another shiver. This time, they're less gentle, pressing their fingers into the slit and letting the tips tease his dripping gonopore. They continue to shiver as they desperately try to figure out the blossoming feeling inside of them, taking root, spreading.
Grimm shifts all of a sudden—forward, his arms finding Ghost's neck and wrapping around it. He rests his head on Ghost's forehead, breathing heavily, as if trying to catch his breath.
Concern overrides the desperation, and Ghost raises their unoccupied hand from his thigh to his cheek, stroking it. Grimm's eyes had slid shut, but at the action they open ever so slightly. He smiles, shaky.
"I'm… surprisingly worked up," he says. "When you touch me, it feels…overwhelming. It's good. Keep going."
Ghost follows, turns their attention back to the unnamed thing inside them and what it's making them do. The bud above his entrance had finally unraveled, and from it sprouted his aedeagus, full and flush. They can hear Grimm's quiet, breathy instruction to hold it instead, but Ghost doesn't quite follow. There's something about the slit. To appease him, they use their other hand (he lets out a whimper, which he stifles almost immediately), while their dominant hand continues exploring his vulva.
What is this feeling? They're not sure. They just want to keep touching, keep gathering his slick. Their fingers finally press into his entrance—
There's more inside.
Ghost snaps their hand back, and Grimm once again startles. Between them is Ghost's hand, shaky and barely keeping its form. The slick covering their fingers is slowly being absorbed into their Void, tiny tendrils sprouting in an effort to bring more inside them.
And then they understand.
They're hungry.
"Of course." Grimm actually laughs a little. "Of course, of course. Why didn't I think of it? The Void consumes… that's why my body…"
They're also worked up. They reach into the Void, along it, and they find Grimm's presence and the tether tying him to the Void, the same kind of tether all things that exist have. They find the ancient link between them humming, vibrating with some kind of command to allow them to consume. Directed at Grimm.
"I can feel you. My existence, my mind, I feel you there on the edges." He holds tighter and rests his head on their shoulder. He's trembling. "Watching. Waiting… don't wait. It's okay."
Grimm's hips meet theirs, his thighs seemingly unable to keep him up anymore, and he moves against Ghost's smooth Void. Ghost wrestles with their instincts, takes a hold of that tether with all the strength they have. They ask. They worry. The Void can be commanding, can override another's sense of self and autonomy. It commanded the Radiance to still, paralyzing her, as they dragged her into the Void. Easily, the Void could have Grimm submit and swallow him whole.
They don't want to take advantage of Grimm. Not like this. Not unless…
"Do you really want this?"
Grimm nods, frantic. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Look inside my mind, if you must. Connect with me. I trust you. I…"
The Void shudders, violent, barely contained, longing to consume this light in their arms—they follow his instruction again, reaching further along their inherent connection, brushing their consciousness against his. And they feel it—his emotions, his thoughts, his burning lust. They still worry, and they wrestle their physical form to remain within their self imposed limits, and they expand within his mind.
He whimpers and holds tighter. Connecting their mind to his so closely and intricately is new, and through the newfound connection, they can see how it affects Grimm. It's like being stripped open, laid bare, unable to hide himself from their ancient, knowing gaze. Seeing every part of him, observing every detail, it's somehow more intimate than the act of sex itself.
Ghost nuzzles him with their mask, and continues. They need to know. They hunt for any shred of doubt, any sign of hesitation.
Within the fires that make him and occupy his mind, they find a small cinder of something hesitant. They swarm to it, investigate it, decipher it. They peel apart the cinders, and to their shock they feel Grimm reaching in and helping them. And laid bare, they see the source of his hesitation.
"I got you," Ghost says through the Void. "I want to see you lose control. I’ll hold you steady."
The cinder falls away into nothing, and Grimm lets his voice go. His sounds are soft, but they carry intense desperation; and it makes Ghost hold him tighter, digging their fingers into his waist.
Ghost switches their positions, laying Grimm carefully on the bed. He immediately splays himself open, welcoming, begging wordlessly, eyes lidded and burning with desire. Ghost holds onto his mind, spreading themselves out until they envelop him whole, keeping watch for even the slightest thought against this. Grimm arches off the bed, a whine escaping him at the sensation of Ghost all around him, wants Ghost to be all-encompassing on the physical plane too. They refrain from the second part, and first press in further, spreading themselves in, taking root in all his thoughts and feelings.
They push more of themselves into him, into every crevice he's uncovered, and they channel their own endless craving for him through. Another whine escapes Grimm, high pitched and long, sounding almost like his vocalizations as a child. A mewl.
Something new stirs in Ghost, pervading every single bit of their Void, and it presses into Grimm's mind.
M̷̡̗͓̘̺̑̌̓̇̚̚͝ī̴̹̜͗̓̔ṅ̶̠̎̕̚ę̴͉̪͉͇̹̭͊̌.
"Yours!" He cries, breathless.
Ghost shudders violently, feels their tentacles come out of them and wrap around his limbs and torso. Possessive. Their mask cracks and flexes, mimicking the mandibles they've seen on others, and allowing for a long, dripping tongue to flop out and onto Grimm's abdomen.
He's so, so wet, leaking pure ambrosia that Ghost craves so viscerally. Ghost's tongue slithers down, licking every inch of his vulva, gathering as much slick as they can with their tongue alone. They don't want any of it to go to waste—even the fluids that stained the sheets, they spread their Void and suck it up into themselves.
Then, Grimm's aedeagus starts dripping, too, and Ghost maneuvers their tongue. They flatten their tongue and have it wrap around Grimm's cock, then it travels down and continues licking up and down his slit.
Above them, Grimm is moaning, writhing on the bed. His hands tightly grip the sheets, his extra appendages scramble for some kind of purchase, and his legs try to press together. Ghost rumbles with something like a growl and uses their tentacles to wrap around his legs. They spread him completely, settling lower, looming over his groin. Grimm whines again, shifting his hips.
Ghost prods his mind, and all they get in return is desperate pleas to please please go inside please inside me inside now more more more
They comply immediately. Their tongue finds his gonopore and thrusts in all at once and—
Delicious. Absolutely delicious, intoxicating, addicting—even more so is Grimm's moan, the loudest one yet. It's absolutely sinful music to them, practically calling on their Void to consume everything he has to give. Another shiver runs through their body, vibrating almost, and as if in response more helpless cries of pleasure spill out of him.
Ghost glances up and sees little sparks of scarlet falling from his eyes. Hunger pervades them further.
They want that too. They want his tears and his voice. More tentacles sprout, finding his extra limbs and his arms, then they wrap loosely around his throat. The tentacles lap up at the corners of his eyes, and an extra one finds his mouth and enters. He opens up further, loosens his jaw and lets Ghost in deep. So, so deep.
Between his legs, Ghost pushes deeper there, too. They lick up what they can, everything Grimm is giving them, and they do their best to coax out even more. They pick through his mind, finding his sexual exploits—specifically his preferences, in detail. Oh, he really did bed a lot of bugs, and he's explored himself thoroughly (but not this thorough, his mind supplies quietly).
They get an impression, and they mold their thick tongue into something more specific he'd like. Something textured, covered in bumps, and they flex it inside him. The part of their tongue wrapped around his aedeagus, they also make textured and start pumping him as they thrust inside.
Grimm throws his head back, arching off the bed again, and oh, he's so lovely. He's so lovely like this, open and giving. And of course he would, for Ghost. He would give it all, in return for being such a parasite—
That's Grimm's thought. Ghost immediately circles it, reaches for it and covers it, drowns it in them.
"Shh. Never. You have never taken anything I wasn't already willing to give."
They split themselves, allowing their shell to continue hovering between Grimm's legs as their tongue thrusts and flexes, pressing into all his sensitive spots. The rest of them shifts up, gaining their usual shape as the Lord of Shades. They open all their eyes, the eight on their face and the many spread throughout the rest of their body, all pointed at Grimm, all watching hungrily—tenderly.
"I wouldn't be so attached to you if all you did was take from me."
Another cinder of doubt manifests. Ghost holds it, studying it—finds it stems from Grimm's past. He's used to taking, and never giving, because he never liked the summoners he entrusted himself to. But Ghost is different. Ghost is always an exception to him. This is the first time he's ever wanted to offer everything he had, everything he is.
He's figuring it out, though. Ghost doesn't need to worry about it. For now… please…
Ghost's tongue thrusts in faster, strokes his cock faster, and Grimm's moans escalate, getting louder. They can hear him through the Void stuffed down his throat, not quite gagging him but stifling enough that his sounds are only for them. And to their delight, Grimm intercepts that thought and his genitals release more arousal.
Greedily, they lap it all up, shuddering again at the taste. Their entire Void body feels fragile, about to burst with the need to consume everything Grimm would give them, and their constitution is made more delicate with the jumble of feelings in Grimm's head. Their connection buzzes with the depth of Grimm's feelings, all the sensations they give him—it affects them too, makes them go faster, pleasure him more, and he gives more and feels more—more more more, it's like a loop.
Grimm's mind feels like wet sand, soft and moldable in their Void. When they press gently, Grimm physically reacts, and a cry resonates through their link. It's not a cry of pain, far from it, and Ghost lets themselves mold his mind. Carefully, still being mindful of any more cinders that may arise, they dig roots inside just as the tongue inside him splits into multitudes. Stroking—Ghost strokes everything they can, consumes what they can—his arousal, his tears, his voice, his thoughts, his feelings, everything. And they replace it with their own.
Another cry, in his mind and in his throat. More fire spills from his eyes at the intensity of it all. He's close, so close. More, more, more.
Ghost gives more. Whatever Grimm wants.
Kiss? Hold. Embrace.
Ghost stops restraining his limbs all at once, slithers out the tentacle in his throat. Right away, Grimm latches onto what they can of Ghost, bringing their massive head down to kiss them. They make a mouth just for him, molds it to his and he makes even more helpless, breathless sounds against them. Ghost swallows it all, wraps themselves around him without restraining him, thrusts even faster—
He pulls away to throw his head back, arching off the bed again with a strangled moan. And so much comes out of him, so much arousal, gushing out. Ghost barely has the self control to swarm his groin, lapping up everything they can. They manage to be careful about it at least, though they are certainly insistent—
Take more. Stimulate. Even more. It's okay. Close.
Alright.
Ghost allows themselves to do so. They prod his mind again, finding where else he feels good, and he shoves to them thoughts of another entrance. Oh, there's so many ways to make him feel good. Ghost wants that. They do that, with yet another tentacle with the same bumpy texture, splitting into multitudes. They're still careful, slithering inside and making sure he's okay, before increasing the strength and pace.
Ghost slides down, filling out their mask again and focusing completely on the slick coming out of him. Drinking everything. Coaxing more out.
Again, Grimm cries and more spurts out of him. Ghost's self control snaps almost completely, and they swarm him. They take their fill, and Grimm lets him, voice audibly wrecked and obviously tired. He's heaving, every bit of him shaking, and when Ghost reaches into his mind, curls their tendrils around his thoughts to check, Grimm gives a sound close to a mewl.
Ghost does not let up, pressing their Void flush to him and drinks everything. Their multiple hands hold Grimm still, except for his lower half, which Ghost lifts off the bed for easier access. They indulgently eat up everything they can, even letting their Void drip onto his folds, teasing to go back in, a biting cold in contrast to the flame he's used to.
An ember sparks, a different form from everything else. Pain—and not the enjoyable kind.
Ghost immediately lets go and withdraws, all at once, mind and body, and Grimm collapses on the bed with a soft 'oof'. They fix themselves, dragging their Void back into their skinny bug-like form, with only two arms and two legs. Their mask automatically repairs, the cracked shell that made up faux-mandibles fold back and smoothen out into a proper shell.
They're satiated for the most part. The Void is always hungry, but it's distinctly less so now, and it's easier to control themselves compared to just earlier, when Grimm had started leaking—
Ah. They crawl up to Grimm's face to check on him, except he has both arms over it. Hiding in shame. Ghost pokes his forearm with their muzzle as a form of question, their limbs holding him aloft, careful not to touch him anywhere else.
"I'm fine," he says hoarsely. "I have just discovered things about myself, today."
Ghost shakes with a silent laugh. They shift their weight to their knees, urging Grimm's arms away so he can see their signs.
Do you need anything?
He shoves a hand between his legs, as if checking something. Perhaps to see if he still has fluids on him? Ghost was pretty thorough, so it should be dry. And it must be, because he withdraws his hand and says, "Just water."
Obedient as ever, Ghost goes to the kitchen and returns with a cup of water. Grimm takes it and downs it in one go, then sets it aside. Then, he grabs Ghost by the upper arms and drags them down with him. Ghost follows clumsily and ends up collapsing right next to him, at which point he embraces them and hides his face.
This must be the cuddling that comes after from what they've read and others have told him about, then? They want to ask, but Grimm seems intent on pretending he can't be perceived. Ghost allows him to hide, but still hugs him back and nuzzles the top of his head. They have to actively refrain from bringing out their tentacles again to embrace him further, like they usually do when they cuddle like this (though they both usually have clothes on).
Suddenly, Grimm mumbles something. Ghost nuzzles his head again, urging him away from speaking straight into their thorax. With surprising reluctance, Grimm lifts his head, and he has the darkest blush Ghost has ever seen on him, and his eyes burn with an intensity.
"I said, I have never been that desperate and horny in all my lives."
Ghost actually rumbles with a laugh, their Void shaking enough that there's a subtle sound. Grimm looks like he wants to hide again, and Ghost helps him by grabbing the blanket with an extra arm and pulling it over their bare bodies.
"I wonder if it's an instinct in all living things. To want to be consumed by you."
They want to say that it's probably just him—otherwise they might need to rethink what happened with the Radiance, and they're not sure they want to unpack that—but Grimm isn't giving them much space to sign and they're not sure if he's ready to hear their voice again. They settle on resting their head on top of his and shaking it to signal no.
Grimm hums. "Much to reflect on tomorrow."
Ah, right. Aftercare. That's a thing, right? What was it they were taught? They gave him water, but that's it. There should be something more, right, like food or some kind of debriefing? The aftercare has to scale with the intensity of the kink, or something like that, and they're pretty sure this was very kinky—
"I can feel you thinking."
He taps the side of their mask, and they pull away to look at him. His eyes are lidded, looking sleepy, content and full of affection.
"Did your various friends tell you about aftercare? Don't worry about it for now, I'm used to it. We can go in more detail later, if you like, but I'm fine now. I just need to rest."
There's just enough space between them. They make small tendrils and start signing in Shade language, as if in full length. It's like the equivalent of whispering when Ghost signs this way, which is fitting.
You don't need anything else?
"You spoil me. Or are you feeling guilty?"
Maybe both.
He flicks their snout. "A good instinct to have. You should feel sheepish for doing all that to me for our first time; you're surprisingly insatiable."
Sorry. They do feel guilty, and hope that shows. I didn't think I was going to lose control like that.
"It's alright, I let you have at it, after all." He smiles again. "You're the only one I'll ever allow to touch me like that, methinks. I don't think anyone else will ever be an exception. Only you, always only you."
They feel soft all of a sudden. They wish they had a face to express themselves with, a way to look at him with tenderness, that doesn't involve leaving their shell. He doesn't seem to need it though, going by the way he comfortably nuzzles into their thorax and hums. A purr leaves him; a lower, matured version of the sounds he made as a child, and much less desperate than a while ago.
They wonder if he knows how badly they wish they could express how much they love him, at any given moment. They wonder if it's why they let them touch him the way they did.
For all his talk of being a parasite, he never really does take from Ghost or demand anything of them. He always lets Ghost be, and goes along with whatever they want to do. Never pressing them to be anything, always just accepting.
Does he know how much that means to them?
They wonder what they were thinking; what Grimm saw in their mind. They want to ask, but when they look down at him, he’s fast asleep. Back in the Nightmare Realm, fulfilling his duties to the Nightmare’s Heart, most likely—assuming Ghost didn’t completely exhaust him.
They have a good idea of what he heard, anyway. They’re sure Grimm has heard enough professions of love from tonight alone to last him ten more lifetimes.
(Not that Ghost has plans to stop.)