Chapter Text
Gehrman does not dare claim he understands the will of God, but some aspects of his Lord are undeniably more human-like than others. When they are alone together, his Lord exposes some of these traits to Gehrman. ‘He’ shows a preference for sweet treats, occasionally conjuring them up for the both of them to enjoy in a spontaneous tea party. ‘He’ curiously inquires on the specifics of Gehrman’s exploits, leaning forward in interest as Gehrman gives his report. And when Gehrman’s report gets overly lengthy, ‘His’ focus starts to wane, eyes wandering down from Gehrman’s face to his neck and chest, and sometimes even lower…
But the point is, Gehrman treasures these little mannerisms which only surface in his presence, taking note of them and locking them away in the depths of his mind. He tries not to dwell on them, as they remind him of the blasphemous fact that his Lord likely used to be a human just like him, with his own lifestyle and habits.
But this thought often surfaces unbidden, and brings with it an inexplicable sense of sorrow. Whenever Mr. Fool reveals ‘His’ more human side, Gehrman is reminded of the sacrifices his Lord must have made to reach the pinnacle of strength. ‘He’ no longer sleeps for ‘He’ has no need to, nor does ‘He’ eat as frequently as most humans would. ‘He’ no longer speaks to anyone but ‘His’ followers, and is unable to enjoy society and culture the way humans can. Most heartbreaking of all, as an eternal being of ancient times, ‘He’ must have lost innumerable family or friends to time.
Gehrman couldn’t imagine how lonely it must be, bearing the burden of godhood alone and outlasting every acquaintance ‘He’ has ever made. Determined to lessen this burden and stand by his Lord’s side, Gehrman dedicatedly advanced his Sequence, while also catering to his Lord’s human-like whimsies to try to relieve this supposed loneliness. Even if these whimsies seemed a little eccentric in nature.
Gehrman had just returned to his motel room from a short reconnaissance mission when he received a divine message from his Lord. Accustomed to his Lord’s summons, he sat down in bed and prepared to enter the realm of his God. Crimson light flooded his vision, and he felt the familiar sensation of his body lifting into the foggy void. The crimson cleared, revealing his Lord’s figure at the end of a long bronze table, shrouded by thin gray fog.
Gehrman bowed reverently, greeting his Lord. The Fool lightly nodded in return. With a wave of ‘His’ hand, Gehrman teleported from his usual seat to the one flanking his Lord. ‘He’ did this often, whenever Gehrman and ‘Him’ were meeting in private. Gehrman secretly wondered if ‘He’ was making a show of bringing the two of them closer together each time, when ‘He’ could’ve placed Gehrman there the moment he was summoned.
Now a short distance away from his Lord, Gehrman spoke first, “How may I be of assistance, my Lord?” He was just being polite. Gehrman believed he had been summoned to provide details on his latest mission, which would devolve into regular small talk or maybe a tea party. Spending spare time with his Lord was nothing less than an honour to him, and he hoped they’d talk more than business this time as well. Mr. Fool smiled, a glint of mischief appearing in his eyes. “There is something that has piqued my interest as of late. It is a ‘game’, of sorts, that I cannot experience alone.”
‘He’ reached over ‘His’ shoulder, conjuring up something that fit in the palm of ‘His’ hand. Unclenching ‘His’ fist, a pair of wooden dice clattered onto the bronze table.
Did Mr. Fool wish to play a game of dice? Gehrman briefly recalled the mystical die he painstakingly helped to deliver a while back. Surely these dice aren’t as powerful as the one before? Gehrman kept his calm visage, but a chill went down his spine.
Upon closer examination, he realised the faces of the wooden dice bore engraved words rather than pips. He read the sides facing him. Lick. Ear.
“...May I ask how we are meant to play this ‘game’, my Lord?” he asked shakily. Surely, there must be some other way to play that his impure mind is missing.
Mr. Fool chuckled, picking up the pair of dice. “This die will determine an action, while the other, a body part on which to perform the action.”
‘He’ tossed the dice, which tumbled across the table to Gehrman’s side. Stroke. Thigh.
“The one rolling the dice will have to perform the action on said body part of the other player.” Mr. Fool continued matter-of-factly, glancing at the frozen man beside him. “So, would you like to play?”
Gehrman stared at the dice, reading the two words over and over again to confirm he wasn’t imagining them. Then he peeked up at his Lord’s chest, making sure not to make eye contact with the ancient existence. Did ‘He’... really want to do this with me? He unconsciously pressed his thighs together as his face heated up. Gehrman had previously considered the possibility of his Lord possessing desires of the sort, with ‘His’ gaze sometimes falling on certain body parts of his, but he never expected his Lord to outright invite him to play a lewd game like this.
Gehrman didn’t consider himself a particularly ‘sexual’ being. Whatever urges that cropped up were vented through work and violence. Nor did he have much experience in sexual matters. Of course, that’s not to say he wasn’t willing. He could never refuse a request from his Lord, especially relating to ‘His’ intrinsic human nature. Besides, though he hated to admit it, he has thought of his Lord in such a manner in the past. When Mr. Fool blatantly checked him out, or when ‘He’ slyly hid double entendres in his commands, a heat would persist in Gehrman’s stomach, which would fade the next morning or manifest in the form of dreams. He’d wake up feeling as though he had committed a grave sin.
But now the offer came from his Lord. Gehrman couldn’t suppress the excitement that coursed throughout his body. Realising that he had left his Lord hanging for far too long, he quickly responded, words spattering out before his mind could catch up.
“I would. I would like to play with you. My Lord.”
Mr. Fool nodded in satisfaction, lifting ‘His’ hand and swiping it across the air. In an instant, thick grey fog engulfed the table and its rows of empty seats. As the fog reached Gehrman, he felt himself float once more, before being seated onto a soft, cushioned surface. The fog cleared to reveal he was seated on an emerald green sofa, a small marble table in front of him. The room became a standard living room, albeit with luxurious furniture straight from a noble’s mansion. The Fool was seated on his left side, closer than they had ever been before. Gehrman’s heart pounded out of his chest.
Mr. Fool leaned forward to pick up the dice laid on the table, before gently prying open Gehrman’s hand to hand him the dice. It was the first bit of physical contact they had ever made. Gehrman’s breath hitched as his Lord’s gloved fingers brushed against his.
Mr. Fool smiled. “You can have the first roll. Don’t worry about touching me, I permit you to. It’s merely a game, afterall.”
Easier said than done, Gehrman thought, nervously tossing the dice onto the white marble table. Suck. Hand.
Gehrman frowned, confused by the instruction which went beyond the limit of his humble imagination. He noticed Mr. Fool slide off ‘His’ right glove, and before he knew it, ‘His’ fingers were inches away from his face.
“Go ahead,” Mr. Fool assured, expression indistinct. With his Lord’s urging, Gehrman brought an unsure hand up to his Lord’s, callouses brushing against soft, smooth skin. Bringing it to his mouth, Gehrman hesitated, before kissing the back of ‘His’ hand. He dragged his lips along ‘His’ fingers, and tentatively licked ‘His’ fingernails. The lack of reprimand or disgust from his Lord drove him to slowly take his Lord’s index finger into his mouth. It tasted sweet, with the slightly salty dash of human skin. His Lord’s realm always gave off a smokey and woody fragrance, but the scent was intense coming straight from the source. Gehrman’s mind spun as he pushed his Lord’s finger deeper into his mouth.
Recalling the action word given, Gehrman began to suck lightly, savouring the taste of his Lord as he rubbed his tongue against the index finger. He shut his eyes, and briefly imagined that it was something else in his mouth. A sharp exhale followed.
Mr. Fool closely studied ‘His’ Blessed’s face, diligently working up and down ‘His’ finger with his small, warm mouth. Gehrman’s face was dyed red, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The light hums and moans betrayed his arousal, while simultaneously riling his Lord up. The sight of his adorable servant imagining his Lord’s dick in his mouth, coupled with the sweet sounds he was making, made the Fool all the more tempted to tease the poor man.
Just as Gehrman settled into a rhythm, Mr. Fool abruptly pulled away, a trail of saliva following. Gehrman opened his eyes, dazed and a little disappointed at the loss.
The Fool simply smiled. “It is my turn to roll the dice.”
Gehrman snapped out of his trance. It was time to find out how his Lord would return the favour. Though they were supposed to take turns, Gehrman felt as though he derived too much enjoyment from what was meant to be his chance at pleasing his Lord. Shame overcame him as he watched his Lord decide his own fate.
The dice landed. Lick. Navel.
Gehrman flushed, glancing down at his stomach. His Lord would be… licking him? There?
He had been subtly shifting to hide it, but if his Lord was to do such a thing, ‘He’ would definitely notice the swell between his legs.
A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, bringing his focus back on the ancient entity beside him.
The Fool had on a gentlemanly smile, unsuited for the occasion.
“May I?”
Gehrman nodded, not too sure as to what he was agreeing to. At his answer, his Lord pressed a hand against Gehrman’s chest, pushing him down onto the sofa. The Fool relocated ‘Himself’ between his legs, giving his thighs a cursory stroke before ‘His’ hands found themselves on Gehrman’s stomach.
Untucking and pulling up Gehrman’s dress shirt revealed a chiseled midriff, with sparse dark hair guiding the eye down to his groin. At the centre was his belly button, rising and falling with each strained breath. The Fool rubbed ‘His’ servant’s stomach, pulling at the skin with ‘His’ thumb so the perfect hollow of his navel deformed into a thin oval. All the while, Gehrman sucked in his breath, resisting the urge to laugh at the ticklish caresses.
In the midst of his self-regulation, warm breath brushed Gehrman’s stomach, before a warm and wet tongue shoved itself into his navel. Gehrman yelped, hips jolting upwards involuntarily. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt, an achy and itchy pleasure emanating deep within his belly. His Lord’s tongue swiveled around exploring the crevice. It retracted to lick the rim, before redescending into the deepest, most sensitive point.
Choked moans escaped as Gehrman’s hands found their way onto the back of his Lord’s head and neck, pressing ‘Him’ deeper into his stomach. He grinded against his Lord’s chest, terribly shaken and confused by the unknown pleasure tearing throughout his body and barely aware of what he was doing.
It was so strange, a little painful even, but so, so good. His Lord’s iron grip on his waist, the way ‘His’ body pressed into him as ‘He’ devoured his navel, all fed the fire that was Gehrman’s excitement. He ran his hands through his Lord’s hair and squeezed, drawing a pleased hum from the God which made his stomach burn even hotter.
Heat pooled in his lower half, and his cries grew frantic as he lost control over his wildly bucking hips. When his Lord once again roughly stimulated his deepest point, he finally climaxed, convulsing against the sofa and trapping his Lord between his thighs.
When his servant’s moans calmed down into soft breaths, Mr. Fool rose, admiring ‘His’ work. Under ‘Him’ was his beautiful Blessed, still red and panting from exertion, legs slightly parted to reveal a damp spot on his pants. The Fool ran ‘His’ hand along his side, earning ‘Him’ an overstimulated whine, and pulled Gehrman into ‘His’ arms.
Flush against ‘His’ overwhelmed servant, the Fool whispered into Gehrman’s ear, “Thank you. Your help has been invaluable in my attempt. I hope you do not mind me seeking you out again in the future.” A playful grin stretched across ‘His’ face.
In an instant, misty fog encircled Gehrman, dragging him back down into the mortal realm. The stunned man was back on his stiff motel room bed. After sitting still in disbelief and reviewing the events of the past hour, he finally came back to his senses. He suddenly recalled something, and apprehensively checked the state of his pants, reddening at the pitiful sight. He got up and hobbled over to the washroom, wondering if he should purchase more sets of clothing, if this was to become a common occurrence.